Then I saw him. Leaning against a graveyard oak, black jeans soaked through, a crooked smile that didn't reach his haunted eyes. The rain parted around him, as if even the sky knew to kneel.
I had chosen him once. I would choose him again.
Patch.
The Echo of a Forgotten Vow
His name was a hole in my chest.
He stepped into a shaft of moonlight, and I saw them—shadows moving under his skin, the faint, terrible beauty of something not human. A fallen angel. My guardian. My damnation.
"Do I know you?" I asked, my voice a stranger's. Fisilti - Becca Fitzpatrick
I stopped. The air turned electric. Every cell in my body screamed run , but my feet betrayed me, stepping closer.
The world tilted. The rain stopped mid-air. And for the first time since I woke up empty, I remembered what falling felt like.
The rain fell in soft, relentless whispers over Coldwater, each drop a needle stitching me back into a life I couldn't remember. They said I fell. They said I was lost for eleven weeks. But when I opened my eyes in that hospital bed, the only thing missing was him. Then I saw him
"Angel," he said, the word scraping out of a throat full of broken glass.
"I'm the one who will spend eternity reminding you," he whispered.
His jaw tightened. He pulled a folded paper from his jacket—a page torn from a book, the edges charred. On it, in handwriting I didn't recognize as my own, were the words: If I forget you, find me in the storm. I had chosen him once