The forest was quiet, almost eerily so, as Addison moved through the trees, her footsteps muffled by the soft carpet of leaves beneath her feet. She hadn't planned to end up here, but something in her had urged her to run. To leave. To escape the suffocating tension, the fears, and the unspoken words that had been hanging in the air for days.
She didn't know where she was going. It didn't matter. She needed space, air—room to breathe and think without anyone's eyes on her, without anyone trying to pull her in different directions.
But as she walked, the weight of the night pressed heavily on her. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting long, thin shadows on the ground. The air was cool, but it was a comforting chill, one that made her feel like she was still connected to something real, something grounded.
Stop thinking about it, she told herself. Just breathe.
Her breath came out in steady pulls, though her thoughts raced in a thousand different directions. Aonmi. The strange feelings that clung to her whenever she was near him. His words, his touch—there was something more to him, something she couldn't quite piece together, something dark and dangerous.
Is this what you really want?
She shook her head, trying to silence the voice in her head that kept questioning her every choice. No, I need to think. I can't deal with all of this right now.
She had learned from experience that running didn't always provide answers, but it did provide clarity. Sometimes, you needed to separate yourself from everything to understand what truly mattered.
The moonlight seemed to grow brighter as she walked deeper into the woods, its silver glow reflecting off the occasional glint of water in the distance. She felt a pang of unease at the growing silence around her. It was too still. Too perfect.
Addison paused for a moment, her instincts screaming at her to be alert. The silence of the woods seemed to suffocate her in a way it never had before. She scanned the area, trying to pinpoint what was causing the sudden tension that clawed at her chest.
A flicker of movement caught her eye, something just beyond the trees. She blinked, narrowing her eyes. At first, it was just a shadow—nothing more—but as she focused, the shadow solidified into a figure. Someone was watching her.
Her heart skipped a beat as recognition hit her.
Aonmi.
Her body tensed, her pulse quickening, but she didn't move. She couldn't.
"You followed me," Addison's voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of accusation.
Aonmi stepped out from the shadows, his violet eyes glowing in the dim light, his features cold but with a flicker of something else—a hunger that unsettled her.
"I had to," he said, his voice hoarse. "You're not safe out here alone."
Addison took a step back, narrowing the space between them. "I'm fine," she snapped, though there was a tremor in her voice she couldn't hide.
"You're not," Aonmi retorted, his gaze locked onto hers with an intensity that made her chest tighten. "I couldn't just let you walk away."
Addison swallowed hard, her mind racing. She wanted to say more—to yell, to run, to get away—but something kept her rooted to the spot. It was like there was a magnet pulling her toward him, something she couldn't ignore.
"Why do you keep doing this, Aonmi?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "Why won't you just let me go? I need space. I need time to figure things out."
He stepped closer, his eyes softening for just a moment, but then his expression hardened again. "Because I can't lose you, Addison. Not again. Not after all this time."
The words hung in the air like a weight, a declaration that didn't need to be spoken, yet still stung with their intensity.
Addison's breath hitched in her throat, her chest tightening. "What do you mean, again?"
Aonmi didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening as if the words were too painful to say. When his gaze returned to hers, it was filled with something that almost looked like regret.
"I've been trying to protect you. To keep you safe," he said, voice soft but strained. "But I didn't realize how far I'd gone… How much I've… changed."
Addison didn't know how to respond. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions, of confusion, of a thousand things she couldn't make sense of. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to make him leave her alone, to make the strange, magnetic pull between them vanish.
But she couldn't deny that part of her wanted to know what he meant.
She took a shaky breath, stepping back a little. "What do you want from me, Aonmi?"
Aonmi's eyes darkened, and he reached out for her, his hand hovering just inches from her arm before he seemed to catch himself. "I want you to remember," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to remember us. I need you to remember me."
Addison froze, her heart pounding in her chest as the gravity of his words sunk in. She wasn't sure what he meant by it. What had they shared? What was he asking of her?
"You've lost yourself in all of this," Aonmi continued, his voice rough. "But I haven't forgotten. I've never forgotten, Addison. And I won't let you forget me either."
The air between them felt charged, thick with unspoken emotions and desperate longing. She had never felt more torn in her life, caught between the fragments of memory and the desire to run as far away as possible.
"I—" she started, but her voice faltered.
Aonmi's eyes softened, a flicker of tenderness breaking through his usual cold demeanor. "I'm not going to hurt you, Addison," he said quietly, almost pleading. "I just want you back. Please."
Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she wasn't sure what to say, what to do. All she knew was that there was something terrifyingly familiar about his words, something that tugged at the very core of her being.
But was it enough to bring her back? To make her believe?
Her heart ached as she took another step back, shaking her head. "I don't know you. Not anymore."
And with that, she turned and walked away, the woods swallowing her up once more, leaving Aonmi standing alone in the quiet, his heart in pieces.
______________
Addison's feet moved faster as she walked deeper into the forest, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn't dare look back. She couldn't. The ache in her chest was growing heavier with every step, like an invisible tether pulling her towards something she couldn't understand.
Aonmi's words...
I just want you back. Please.
Her stomach twisted. The haunting plea echoed in her mind, but she forced it down. She couldn't be swayed. Not again. She had to focus, to stay grounded. But the forest was no longer a refuge. The silence felt thick, oppressive. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sent her pulse racing.
She kept walking, not caring where it led, only knowing that she couldn't stay where she had been. Away from him. Away from that suffocating pressure.
She had been running from something for so long—something about Aonmi, something about herself—that she wasn't sure what it was anymore. But it didn't matter. She didn't want to face it. Didn't want to confront the impossible gravity that seemed to pull her in every time she got too close to him.
Her breath came out in shallow bursts, the cold air stinging her lungs. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, feeling a tear she hadn't noticed before.
"Why..." she whispered to herself, voice cracking. "Why is it so hard?"
But no answer came.
She needed answers. Real answers. Not from Aonmi. Not from anyone else. She had to find them on her own. But where could she look when everything felt so... broken?
A sudden, sharp crack of a twig underfoot made her freeze. Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't alone.
Addison turned sharply, her body tense. A figure stepped from behind a thick cluster of trees. A small, wiry woman with wild, untamed dark blonde hair and amber eyes that sparkled in the moonlight.
"Niko," Addison breathed, relief flooding her chest. She hadn't expected to see her.
Niko offered a small, quiet smile. "I figured you'd run out here," she said softly. "You've always been good at hiding when things get heavy."
Addison didn't know whether to be surprised or grateful. Niko was a friend—someone she could trust. They had crossed paths before, often in the most unexpected of ways, but Niko always seemed to appear when Addison needed someone who could understand the quiet, the solitude.
"I didn't think anyone would follow me," Addison muttered, taking a cautious step forward. "I... I needed space. Needed to be alone."
Niko nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I know," she said. "But sometimes, we need more than just space. Sometimes we need someone who won't let us fall into the cracks."
Addison bit her lip, staring at the ground. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everything feels so... confusing. And I'm scared. I'm scared of what Aonmi might do if I keep pushing him away. I'm scared of what might happen if I don't."
Niko studied her, the air around them heavy with the unspoken. "You've always been strong, Addison. You've always fought for what you believe in. And this? This is no different. Whatever's pulling you toward him, it's not something you have to do alone."
Addison met Niko's gaze, feeling a flicker of hope stir within her chest. The words felt like a lifeline—something to cling to.
"I don't know how to fix it," she whispered, her hands trembling. "Everything's broken. It feels like nothing will ever make sense again."
"Things have a way of making sense, even when they don't," Niko said gently. "You just have to trust yourself. Trust your instincts. Trust that you'll know when the time is right."
Addison shook her head. "I can't trust myself," she said softly. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
Niko didn't say anything for a long moment. She simply took a step closer, placing a hand on Addison's shoulder, offering her a steadying presence.
"You'll find your way," Niko said at last. "You just have to give yourself the chance to. Whatever's happening with Aonmi, you don't have to carry it alone. But you have to decide what you're going to do about it. And you have to make that decision for yourself."
Addison took a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs. It didn't fix everything, but it was a start. It was a small bit of peace. A quiet, fleeting hope.
"Thanks," Addison murmured, giving Niko a faint smile. It wasn't much, but it was something.
Niko squeezed her shoulder, then nodded toward the deeper part of the woods. "I think you should come back with me. There's a lot waiting for you, and running isn't going to solve anything."
Addison hesitated, looking down at her feet. The forest seemed so vast, so consuming. But something about Niko's presence grounded her, made her feel less alone in the chaos. Maybe she was right.
Maybe it was time to stop running.
"Okay," Addison finally said, her voice quiet but firm. "Let's go."
With that, they turned and began to walk back, leaving the forest behind them, the path ahead uncertain but filled with a sense of possibility.
Addison didn't know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she could face it.
______________________
Aonmi's POV - When Addison Said "I Don't Know You. Not Anymore."
The words hit Aonmi like a physical blow, sharper than any blade, more cutting than any attack he had ever endured. Addison's voice, her face twisted with something—pain, confusion, maybe fear—rippled through his chest, leaving behind a heavy emptiness. Not anymore.
Those words. They were an echo of everything that had slipped through his fingers, everything he had worked so hard to protect. The connection they had, the bond that had tied them together through lifetimes, had been reduced to nothing. To a painful void.
He stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. His breath hitched in his chest as her words resonated, mingling with the part of him that still clung desperately to the illusion that everything could be fixed. But she had just shattered it all with a single sentence.
"I don't know you," she had said.
Not anymore.
The words didn't belong to the Addison he remembered, the Addison he had known all those years ago. He couldn't recognize this version of her, the one standing before him, looking at him with those distant, unfeeling eyes. The fire that once burned between them, the passion that had made her fight so fiercely for him, for them… all of it was gone.
Aonmi's heart twisted in his chest, a sharp, bitter pain that he could feel deep in his bones. He had tried. He had tried so hard to make her remember—to make her see that he wasn't the monster she thought he was. That he had always loved her.
But now, as he watched her stand there, so far from the girl he had once known, it felt like he was looking at a stranger. How had it come to this?
The desperation rose in him like a storm. He reached out, his hand trembling.
"Addison, please," he whispered, his voice raw, cracking. "I know you remember. I know you do. You can't just forget me. We—we were everything."
Her eyes shifted, and for a moment, Aonmi thought he saw something—a flicker. But it was fleeting, like a dying ember in a storm. She stepped back, out of reach, and his chest constricted as if the air had been sucked from his lungs.
"You don't know me anymore, Aonmi," she repeated, her voice steady but hollow.
Aonmi's hands curled into fists at his sides, the sharp sting of her words leaving him unable to breathe, unable to think. It was too much. Too much to bear.
He had been trying to break free of the chains that bound him to this obsession, but he couldn't. He couldn't let her go—not like this, not without doing everything in his power to make her understand. He couldn't just lose her again. He had spent years, centuries, desperately searching for her, and now that he had found her—now that she was right there in front of him—he couldn't stand the thought of her slipping away into oblivion once more.
"Don't do this," he pleaded, his voice rising, the desperation leaking into his words. "Don't turn away from me. I can't—I won't lose you again."
Her eyes were cold, distant, and it hurt in ways Aonmi never thought possible. He had never known pain like this, the kind that gnawed at him from the inside out, hollowing him out, piece by piece.
"Please," he repeated, softer this time, his voice breaking. "I just need you to remember. I just need you to see what we were."
But Addison shook her head slowly, her gaze never leaving his. "I can't, Aonmi. I can't remember someone who isn't here anymore. I don't know who you are now. I don't know you anymore."
The finality in her words crushed him. She had closed the door on him, slammed it shut with no room for hesitation or second chances. She didn't know him anymore. She didn't see the person he had become—the person who had spent all this time trying to hold on to the love they once shared.
Aonmi's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he didn't know what to do. The world around him seemed to tilt, the sharp pain in his chest suffocating him, squeezing the air from his lungs.
What happened?
How had they come to this? How had he lost her again?
"Addison…" His voice was barely a whisper now, trembling with the weight of everything he couldn't say, everything he couldn't undo.
But she didn't respond.
She simply turned away from him, taking slow, deliberate steps, each one pushing him further into a darkness that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to consume him.
Aonmi stood there, frozen, watching her retreat into the distance. The emptiness in his chest expanded, swallowing him whole.
And in that moment, as he stood alone in the quiet of the forest, Aonmi realized something.
He had always known this was a possibility. That she might never forgive him. That she might never come back. But he hadn't prepared himself for it. He hadn't prepared for the day she would look at him and not recognize him—not as the person she had once loved, but as something else, something unworthy of her.
That was the truth.
He wasn't the person she remembered anymore. And maybe, just maybe, he never would be again.
_________________________
Addison's POV
The days had blurred together since the last time I saw Aonmi and Amanda. Time felt like it was suspended, like I was floating through each moment without really living it. I hadn't heard from either of them since I left. No messages. No signs of them showing up, no unexpected confrontations. Just silence.
It was like they had disappeared into thin air, and part of me wasn't sure if that was a relief or a growing concern.
I tried to convince myself that it was better this way—that being alone was safer, that I could figure things out on my own. But the silence in the empty room, the stillness of the world around me, was suffocating. I had lived through so much, so many things that made it hard to know what was real and what wasn't. But being alone now—without them—was a new kind of unsettling.
Even though I hadn't wanted to deal with Aonmi's obsession or Amanda's concern, the absence of both of them was worse. I found myself wondering if they were okay. If they were looking for me or if they had given up. The thought made my chest tighten, and I pushed it away. I couldn't allow myself to care. Not after everything that had happened.
Still, I couldn't help but remember the look in Aonmi's eyes when he'd stood there in front of me. The devastation. The confusion. I couldn't forget how it felt to be caught between the past and the present, between someone who had known me too well and someone I didn't even recognize anymore.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the exhaustion from my thoughts. I hadn't slept much in the past few days—partly because of the constant tension in the air, and partly because I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
I looked around the small apartment I'd found myself in. The walls were bare, the furniture sparse, and the atmosphere empty. I had chosen this place because it was quiet, out of the way. I wanted space. I wanted time to think.
But it didn't feel like home. It never did.
The door creaked behind me, and my heart skipped a beat. I whipped around, expecting to see someone standing there—someone who shouldn't be. But it was just the wind, pushing the door open slightly from the crack I had left. I let out a slow breath and stepped toward it, closing the door with a firm click.
I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. It was irrational, I knew. But ever since I left, I couldn't help but feel that way. The quiet had turned into something almost oppressive, like it was hiding something beneath it. The shadows seemed darker, and every creak of the floorboards made my heart race.
I forced myself to move away from the door, trying to calm my breathing.
I couldn't run from this forever. I couldn't hide. The confrontation had to happen eventually. But what if I wasn't ready? What if I was just fooling myself, thinking I could handle the consequences of everything I had done?
I walked to the small window, pulling the blinds aside slightly. The street outside was empty, the sky a murky gray, and the air was thick with the promise of rain. I sighed, rubbing my forehead.
I should've gone to Amanda. Should've let her help me. She was my twin—my best friend. But after everything that had happened with Aonmi, the last thing I wanted was to put her in danger. Or worse—drag her into the chaos I had started.
I felt a sudden wave of guilt crash over me, and I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window.
I couldn't fix this. I couldn't make it go away.
But I have to keep going.
The sound of a distant car horn snapped me out of my thoughts, and I pulled away from the window, straightening my back. I couldn't afford to lose myself in the past. I couldn't afford to fall apart now, not when there was still so much at stake.
The door creaked again, and this time, it didn't seem like the wind.
I stiffened, staring at the doorway. My heart began to race as I waited for something—anything—to happen. I wasn't sure who I expected to walk through that door. Aonmi? Amanda? Or someone else entirely?
But no one came.
Just silence.
And I was left standing there, alone.
__________________
The silence was oppressive. Days had passed in a haze, and I felt like I was slowly fading away. The emptiness of the apartment had swallowed me whole, and though I tried to fill it with distractions, nothing worked. I couldn't stop thinking about the people I had left behind—Aonmi, Amanda, even the absence of Laura, who was a constant in my life until recently.
I had been awake for what felt like an eternity, but sleep came unexpectedly that night.
It wasn't a peaceful sleep. It was fractured, slipping between strange memories and disjointed fragments of my own mind. I tossed and turned, restless, until I found myself in a familiar place.
The dream felt too vivid to be just that—more like a memory I had forgotten, or maybe a memory I had buried too deep.
I stood in the middle of a dense forest, the same woods where I'd encountered Aonmi not long ago. The trees stretched above me, tall and twisted, the air thick with an unspoken tension. The ground beneath my feet felt soft, almost unreal, as if I was standing on something other than earth.
But something felt different this time.
I wasn't alone.
A figure stepped out from the shadows, her familiar presence unmistakable.
It was Laura.
She wore the same soft, purple clothes I remembered, her long, wavy hair flowing around her face. Her eyes were full of warmth, just like they always had been when she was near. And yet… there was something else there. Something in the way she looked at me, like she knew something I didn't.
"Addison," she said, her voice gentle yet firm, "you have to remember."
I frowned, confused. "Remember what?"
She smiled softly, and her expression softened as she looked at me like I was fragile—like she had to be careful with every word. "Rosalia," she said quietly, her voice filled with tenderness.
The name struck me like a bolt of lightning, and for a brief moment, the world around me seemed to shift.
Rosalia.
My little sister.
The memories rushed back, but they were distant, like echoes in my mind. I had almost forgotten her. She was always so full of life, so full of energy. We were so close once, when I was younger. I could see her smile—her bright eyes, her laughter filling the space around us. But it felt like I hadn't seen her in years. My heart clenched painfully in my chest as I realized just how much time had passed since I'd last thought of her.
Laura stepped closer to me, her hand gently resting on my arm. "She's still with you, Addison. You know that, right? She's still there, in the shadows, waiting for you to come back to her."
I shook my head, a swirl of confusion and guilt overwhelming me. "I—I can't. I couldn't protect her. I couldn't save her from what happened."
Laura's expression softened further. "You don't have to protect everyone, Addison. You can't save everyone. But you can remember them. You can honor them."
Tears blurred my vision as I looked at her, fighting the urge to break down. "I… I don't know if I can do that. What if I've already lost her? What if I've lost everything?"
"You haven't lost anything," Laura whispered, her voice almost a soft breeze. "Not yet. But you have to be brave. Not for them, but for yourself. You can't keep running from the past. Not anymore."
I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. "How can I? I've already made so many mistakes, so many wrong choices. I can't face it. Not again."
"You're not alone, Addison." Laura's eyes held a deeper understanding, like she could see through me, like she could see all the pain and fear I had been hiding. "And you never will be."
Suddenly, the dream began to shift again, blurring around the edges, like it was fading from my grasp.
"Laura… wait!" I reached out, but she stepped back, her figure growing more translucent by the second.
Her voice echoed softly in the distance as her presence seemed to dissolve into the wind. "Remember Rosalia. She needs you. And so do you."
The dream shattered, and I woke up gasping for air, my body drenched in sweat. My heart raced, and for a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. The room around me felt unfamiliar, the night too still.
But then it hit me—the weight of everything, of what I had just heard. Rosalia. My sister. How could I have forgotten her? How could I have let so much time slip by without acknowledging her memory?
I gripped the sides of the bed, trying to steady my breathing. Laura's words echoed in my head.
You're not alone, Addison. You never will be.
It felt like the universe was trying to reach me, to remind me of the bonds I had forgotten. The people I had let slip from my grasp, and the parts of myself I had buried so deeply.
But I wasn't sure I could make it right. I wasn't sure I even knew how to face it all.
Yet, in that moment, I knew one thing: I couldn't stay here forever. I couldn't run from the past any longer. It was time to find the pieces of myself that I had lost—and maybe, just maybe, I could start to find my way back to the ones I loved.