CHAPTER 20: A Kiss in the Dark
Jonas stood half in shadow, half in moonlight—like the truth he carried.
Ava's breath caught in her throat. Eli's hand tightened around hers. The night felt colder now, sharper, like something in it had teeth.
Eli was the first to speak.
"What are you doing here?"
Jonas stepped forward, slow and deliberate. "Thought I'd see what became of you. Of her." His eyes landed on Ava. "Didn't expect you two to find each other in the ashes."
Ava's heart pounded. "I don't know you."
"No," Jonas said. "But you knew the girl in the fire."
Eli flinched.
Jonas smiled—too calm. "The girl who screamed your name. The girl who didn't get out."
Ava stepped back. "Stop."
"You don't remember her, do you?" Jonas asked. "Not really. Just pieces. But I do."
Eli's voice was low. "What do you want?"
"To remind you," Jonas said. "That some ghosts don't stay buried. That healing doesn't come without answers."
And then he walked away.
Just like that—into the night.
Eli didn't move.
Neither did Ava.
Until the wind blew, and the chimes above them rattled again, softer this time.
Ava turned to him, voice trembling. "Who was he talking about?"
Eli shook his head, stunned. "I—I don't know."
But he did.
Deep down, a name burned at the edge of his mind.
A scream.
A girl's hand clutching his.
And then—flames.
"I think I forgot something important," he whispered. "Or someone."
Ava's voice cracked. "I'm scared."
He reached for her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek, feeling the tears. "So am I."
The silence stretched long between them.
"I don't know what's real anymore," she said. "My memories… they lie. They twist. I look at a painting, and it feels like someone else painted it through me."
"Then let's stop guessing," Eli whispered.
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Let's stop running from the dark."
And with that, he stepped closer, until she could feel his breath on hers.
No music. No art. Just them—unfiltered.
He kissed her.
Not soft. Not sweet.
But real.
Messy. Trembling. Desperate.
The kind of kiss that said, I need to feel something that won't vanish when I wake up.
When they pulled apart, Ava was crying harder.
But she was smiling too.
"I felt that," she whispered.
"Good," Eli said. "Because I did too."
And behind them, unseen by either of them, the window to the art room creaked open.
A hand rested on the ledge.
Watching.
Waiting.