Jehora Nexhip

"Do you smell anything?" Natasja's voice, deep and sharp, cut through the din. Jehora's fingers clenched at her sides, the weight of her mother's presence like a blade pressed between her ribs. The ballroom buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses, a farce of normality that made her teeth ache. Around them, the city's elite celebrated, oblivious to the true purpose of their presence there. Jehora exhaled through her nose; the mixture of perfume and sweat dilated her nostrils. Nothing more than human decadence. She shook her head abruptly. Her mother didn't even look at her. "I'll check the van. Don't mess this up while I'm gone," the warning carried the weight of previous failures. The farewell was like a slap. Jehora tensed her jaw as she turned on her heels; the sound of her heels was absorbed by the rhythm of the orchestra. It wasn't like her to wear a short black dress, but the occasion called for it. The weapon hidden on her thigh reminded her of the true reason for the evening. Pathetic. The word coiled in her mind, venomous. You let her bind you again. She crossed the hall with determined steps until her hands found the balcony doors. She pushed them with more force than necessary, and the cold night air bit her bare arms, but she welcomed it; anything to cleanse the cloying stench of duty from her skin. The golden hues of sunset spread across the sky, tinting the mountains with shades of violet as Jehora leaned on the railing. The muffled laughter and clinking of glasses from the party faded into white noise as her mind betrayed her, unearthing memories she had sworn to bury. The weight of textbooks in her arms, the warmth of stolen kisses in the corners of the library, the characteristic scent of... Jehora stiffened. That scent. No. Her pulse quickened, but her face remained a mask of icy indifference as she turned. There she was. You. Alive, real, so close she could touch her. Jehora's throat knotted. All her instincts screamed for her to reach out, to confess, to beg... Instead, she arched an eyebrow, her voice imbued with deliberate disinterest. "You're blocking my view."