“I’m asking you to disobey,” she replied, looking him in the eyes. She didn’t try to pull away anymore and instead reached out with her hand that he was holding, cupping his face. “God, Abel, don’t you remember this? Don’t you remember me?”
She began to panic, putting her other hand on his wrist. “Don’t do it, Abel,” she told him, tears springing to her eyes. “Don’t do this.”
He watched her, staying still for a few moments before his grip loosened, and he looked unsure of himself.
She noticed, trying to pull away. “You remember me somewhere, right?” she asked him. “Somewhere, you know I’m yours.”
She was quiet for a moment before sighing. “I’m going to figure out away to make this make sense, Abel,” she said quietly. “I promise.” She hesitated before giving him a smile. “I’m capable.”
She fell back in panic, but calmed when she realized he wasn’t attacking her. She watched him from her spot, her brows furrowed. “You remember something,” she told him. “Something’s making you unsure. What do you remember?”
She stood as well, her brow furrowed. “No, you don’t,” she told him. “You can stay here and let me fix your leg. You don’t have to go, Abel.” She squinted at him. “You are able to process things right now, and you know that something is wrong. You know that they’ve taken something from you. Push through it and then make the decision of whose side you’re on. You should be allowed to choose with all the information.”
“No, Abel,” she said breathlessly, coming up to him. “No. You’re not a defect. You’re just remembering. Please...”
She raised her hands in surrender. “You are not a defect,” she told him tearfully. “You’re my best friend. Please don’t go.”
