UNBREATHABLE

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Authors: Hafsah Laziaf
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beating heart.
    It whispers. Because it is afraid to want what it wants. Because so many have died for it and many more will. I sigh and turn to my side. We can't all get what we want.
    Yet when I close my eyes, I don’t see darkness. I see blue and green and white.
    Earth.
     
     
    I wake to the sound of my name in the middle of the night. I slide my hand beneath my pillow and close my fingers around the hilt of a dagger as a figure moves into the moonlight.
    “It's me.” Relief rushes through me when I hear the soft sound of Julian’s voice. His messy hair glows in the moonlight.
    “What is it? What's wrong?” I whisper. My voice is thick with sleep.
    He stares at me in silence. “I wanted to ask you something.”
    “Oh.” I sit up. His eyes slip to my bare shoulders and linger before they jump back to my face. Everywhere he looks, my skin tingles, as if his gaze is a tangible thing. I hear him shift in the dark and warmth rushes to my face.
    “How would you know,” he breathes, “if you loved someone?”
    I blink. I remember telling him his love for Dena was not love. 
    “I guess, you would know, in your heart. You wouldn't be able to close your eyes without seeing her face, hearing her voice and imagining her smile. And you wouldn't be able to leave her, no matter how much you tried. When you see her smile and laugh and hear her voice, whispering words just for you, it'll feel like the world is at your feet. Like nothing could ever go wrong.”
    I snort softly. “I don't know really. It's all in my mind.”
    He runs his fingers through his hair. “How would you tell them? Her.”
    “That you love her?” I ask. “I-I guess you wouldn't need to. If she loved you back, you would both feel it, know it, and that itself will bring you together.”
    But there was one word I had found in my water-damaged copy of the English dictionary that could describe love.
    “Love is magic,” I say.
    My eyes burn and I rub at the ache in my chest. I speak as if I know, but I do not. This is only what I think. What I want.
    For a moment, I think he has fallen asleep, bored by my words. But after a moment, I he whispers.
    “Thank you, Lissa.”
    I hear his soft footfalls. I see the door open. And before sleep finds me again, I think I hear his voice, a lullaby in the dark.
    “Sweet dreams.”
    And I think, maybe, just maybe, I dreamt it all.
     
     
    The door to the training room is ajar the next day. My legs ache with every step. But any day now, the Jute might come, and I need to be ready.
    It’s odd, how my life has changed in the span of little more than a month. I have gone from an orphan living in a sea of dying humans to a daughter, a prized possession needed so the Jute can get to Earth.
    I slip silently into the room. Sunlight shines through the wide windows, casting the weapons in shades of brilliant gold. Beautiful and deadly.
    I almost don't see Julian sitting in the corner, leaning over something. He doesn’t see me come in, and it’s hard not to stare without his attention on me.
    His face is calm though his long fingers move. There’s a ridge on the bridge of his nose that I didn’t notice before. A crescent-shaped scar, the length of my thumbnail curves along the side of his left eye. I force my eyes down to his lips, full and a bruised dark pink, as if he spends too much time chewing them in nervousness.
    He isn’t as perfect as I first thought.
    He looks up through the hair dusting his forehead and I want to brush them away with the tips of my fingers. Amusement touches his irises as if he can read my mind.
    And he smiles. His lips curve up and I feel as if this is the first time I've seen a smile. My heart ricochets inside my ribcage and threatens to burst free.
    And I realize, in all the seventeen years of my life, I have never felt this way. Ever.
    “This is for you,” he says softly, reminding me to breathe. He holds up two daggers. The black hilts are carved in gold and white lines,

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