Cassandra lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her emerald eyes are tired and puffy, still leaking with the tears that still hadn’t dried up. It had been hours since she left John’s. Hours. Dawn was nearly upon her and yet she just couldn’t sleep. Memories kept flashing in her mind, tormenting her. Kisses and arguments, mundane treasured moments. Her body felt like it was on fire.

Focus on the present. Focus on the now. What have you done?

She told John about her Keeper and she told him about Phillip leaving her. She hadn’t even told Blodwen why Phillip left and yet she told a near stranger. Was it the Wyrdstone that made her feel safe enough to do that? The Pledge? Was it just that she couldn’t hold onto it anymore? She didn’t know and that almost terrified her. What else would she tell him?

But does it really matter? She wrestles with that thought for an interminable amount of time. She wanted to be different. The old Cassandra kept everything bottled up. The old Cassandra used secrets gathered for her own gain. Well, for Phillip’s gain. She knew John’s secret now too, his pain of still being in love with his Keeper, hating himself for it. Something she understood well.

Thinking about him made her body tense again. The Artist. Please don’t go there. Please, please, just stop. She sits up quickly, panic intensifying in her. Her heart feels like it might short out, her breathing so shallow and quick, she feels like she might pass out. Screams from long ago echo in her mind, pleas for him to stop. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll play better. I'll be better. Please don't hurt me. She feels that tingle of pain in her right hand pinky, warped because she never placed it just right on her bow.

Why? She hugs herself again as she sobs once more, hugging her comforter close to her face as if it would stop the blizzard around her. I need you. She just barely manages to tumble out of bed, tripping and falling on her knees. She crawls to her bathroom where she pulls herself up into the tub and turns on the shower. She’s still in her red dress, but she doesn’t care. The water, only lukewarm, feels like fire to her skin, but she needs it. She needs to feel like she is alive. Like she is here.

Focus on the present.

John knows how weak she truly is, but then, she knows where he is weak now too. He won’t tell anyone, just like she won’t. No, she wouldn’t tell a soul. Even beyond the politics, she’d seen firsthand how those secrets could be warped into a weapon. She’d been the one to do it on more than one occasion, after all.

She tries to close her eyes, letting the scalding water wash away the feeling of never ending sin, but when she closes them, all she can see are the tears in John’s shadowy eyes. Eyes normally so hardened, impossible to read, you’d never expect to see them shed such tears with such a pain and yet look so natural all at the same time. Her heart aches again, but for the first time in a long time, it isn’t just for herself. Friendship is often an exchange of burdens, isn’t it? Another exchange of pieces. When was she going to stop giving those pieces of herself away?

You hurt him. He is going to hate you. He’s not your friend. Her heart sinks again and the feeling of loneliness consumes her once more. You don’t deserve friends. “Shut up.” she mutters under her breath, her voice hoarse.

But maybe if she gave away enough of the right pieces, she could finally be the person she wanted to be. ...what was that person though? A good person? Someone who truly takes on the ideals of Winter isn’t often a good person. But then, at this point, what did she have left to lose by trying?

I am a villain in rehabilitation. She nearly laughs, but it comes out as a huff with tears instead. Damn it. ...One day at a time. I’ll take your motto and I’ll try. She stays like that, the water continuing to burn as she sits there, but it doesn’t burn as much overtime. Eventually, she turns off the water and passes out where she is. Perhaps her self conscience had decided that she had tortured herself enough for one evening, because there were no nightmares tonight.