of the glass made it.
I thought you liked the way it made it made you feel.
Gasping, I sat down in a chair, staring at the glass on the floor. Tim was staring at me.
“Eug…what just happened?”
The euphoria of power flickered briefly as I desperately tried to summon the air again. No luck. That achingly wonderful glory drained out of me, like embers fading from orange to gray. Some part of my soul screamed for it as it disappeared, begging it to come back, swearing that I would do anything at all for it to return. I closed my eyes and swallowed.
“Eugenie,” Tim tried again, “what was that?”
I opened my eyes and followed his gaze to the glass that still lay on the floor. It took me a moment to find my voice, and when I did, it came out soft and husky.
“I don’t know. But I think I want it.”
Notes
