“It means that I am in love…”

Freeze.

Fae couldn't move, everything stood perfectly still. It was like there was a hand clasped around her throat, something stabbing into her chest. Never mind her mind reforming its pieces; it was disintegrating at a nerve wrenchingly slow pace. Every bit of her self was retreating, shrinking away, trying to hide in the darkest recesses of her mind. She started losing her sense of touch, no longer feeling Linta's shoulders under her hands. Her vision blurred, the gentle sounds around them turning silent in her ears. Her eyes seemed to darken.

This was a desperate second nature for Fae. Love was a painful word for her. It was something she wanted with all her soul, but had burned and pricked and bruised her to a ridiculous degree. It was like a rose made out of delicate pink spun sugar and infused with cyanide. Gorgeous, silent, and lethal.

Panic.

Suddenly, thoughts seemed to string together at the outer edge of her being. If she continued this, she would fall. Literally. If she continued, she'd sink into a deep trance. The last time it had taken her days to emerge from her dark peace. Linta said the world was ending. She felt her body sway distantly. Or at least she thought that was what she felt. It was vague, far away. 'You're going to fall, little girl,' something whispered. 'You're going to fall.' But what did that mean? Was she going to fall to the ground, lost in a trance? Was she going to fall in a more metaphorical manner? She couldn't decide which scared her more. 'Come back.' Her eyelids began to flutter violently; her whole body seemed to shake beyond her control. Because she was starting to lose control. Autopilot had taken over.

Well, shit.