You abruptly sit upright, eyes wide.

“Amara? Is something wrong?”

You turn your head towards your right and find yourself seeing the dark outline of a man’s body.  Gritting your teeth, you jump out of the bed and push him onto the floor, your hands finding his neck.  The person in your dream flashes in your mind and a growl escapes your lips.

“Wha—“

“Mother,” You squeeze at his neck harder.  “Mother,”

The words of the man in your dreams plays itself over and over again, cold, heartless, and then comes the sharp sound of the knife, the pained grunt from your mother’s lips.

You flinch as the man under you lifts his hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.  You glance at his wrist and pull your hands back as quick as it came to his neck. 

Staring at your hands, you cup your face with it, in an effort to stop the trembling.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, feeling the man beneath you sit upright.  “I’m so sorry,”

“Hey, hey, ssh,” He pulls you into his arms and for a long time, the two of you stayed like that, your hands covering your face and his arms around you.

“Why didn’t you stop me, Luhan?” You ask, still straddling him.

“Because,” He lifts you up from under the arms and sets you sitting on the bed, kneeling on the floor as he looks up to your eyes.  “Because I know what it feels like to be in the afterimage of a nightmare,”

“My mother, she—“ Your breath catches in your throat, and after swallowing down the lump, you continue.  “She was murdered by someone from the Rebellion,” You nervously glance at your knives, the ones set on your bedside table.  “And for a moment I didn’t know you were—“

“It’s okay, Amara,” Luhan runs his thumb over your knuckles as he slips his hand into yours. 

“At least I know where these come from,” You collect your hair and drape it over one shoulder.  “And now I’ve found the reason I’ve been looking for,” Your eyes once more go to your knives, this time, not with fear, but with a newfound determination.

The hand linked to yours tenses right then, and you look up to meet Luhan’s eyes.  “What is it, then?” Luhan asks.  “Revenge? Avenging your mother?” The tenderness that was in those hazel pearls was replaced by a hard stare right through your eyes, almost as if tinged with distaste.

You frown and speak up.  “I—“

“Because if that is your reason, then you’re the same as the Queen,” He spat and quickly lets go of your hand and stands up from the floor.  He turns his back on you and walks towards the door.

“What? Luhan, I—“

“Goodnight, Amara,” He says bitterly before he leaves your room, leaving you astonished in the dark.