You twist back to look at her, and you don’t know what frightens you more, how uncharacteristically
anxiously she’s behaving or the fact that she actually seems like it will affect her if you do jump.
‘
Don’t be difficult.’
In the end, it is the panic and vulnerability in her eyes that persuades you to return back into the warm
shelter of her arms, like all the other times. A vicious cycle you never could escape from.
You pivot, and start to make your way down when your foot slips and the weakened brick crumbles.
It is only due to the adrenaline rushing through your veins that makes you react fast enough to grip the
fragile Great Wall. Not so great anymore; mediocre, perhaps.
Only then do you realize your other hand is gripped tightly in two of hers, her fingernails digging into
your skin. She tilts her chin up, and stares hard into your eyes. She looks tired, but alive.
‘
I hope you’re not waiting for me to cry.’
You simply smile, resolution washing over you.
Then she lets you go, because how can she save you if she can’t even save herself?
* * *