The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights by Brick Moving Ant

Chapter 12

I stared at the photo, frozen in place.

My tears had long since dried up. My heart had finally, mercifully flatlined.

When we were little, my parents were always away on business trips. I’d spend most evenings at Zephyr’s house, eating dinner and doing homework together.

I missed my parents desperately but hated making his mom worry about me.

I’d lock myself in their bathroom, muffling my sobs with a towel.

Zephyr caught me once. After that, he made sure I was never alone long enough to feel that emptiness, always inventing new games or projects to distract me.

Together, we spent a whole weekend making matching stuffed animals.

A little rabbit and a little dog.

I was terrible at sewing–all thumbs and frustration–but Zephyr showed endless patience, guiding

my hands through each stitch.

My fingers ended up covered in pinpricks, tiny dots of blood on my fingertips.

He’d gently blow on each one, his face scrunched with concern, promising it would get easier.

gave me the little dog he’d made, Zephyr looked so serious:

will be me keeping you company. And my bunny will be you keeping

together, just like we’ll always be

my nightstand, threadbare from years of being held.

been casually

12:47

Bride of Velvet

38.5%

Chapter 12

my phone to Zephyr’s contact.

at the camera, the same smile I’d fallen

Delete. Block. Remove.

From my phone.

From my life.

From my future.

became an anchor weighing down my recovery.

methodically excavating the archaeology of our

memento, every physical reminder of what I thought we had.

vinyl soundtrack he’d queued for six hours to buy when I went through my film

obsession.

trip to Iceland, where he wrapped his arms

he found at that flea market in San Francisco, spending an

for “something as