[Shape of Love 01] • The Triangle

They’re sworn enemies and I’m in the middle.

Both of them claimed me. Had me. Used me. Forgot me.

Except… I don’t remember any of it. I don’t even know who I am or why I’m in this cramped basement apartment with tinfoil covering the tiny windows when my bank account says I have over two million dollars.

I don’t know how I got the stitches on the back of my head, or the scar under my chin, or the ache in my shoulder—but I do know I probably deserved it.

I don’t know why there’s a shotgun in the closet, a sniper rifle under the floorboards, and a pistol under my pillow.

I don’t know why I stay.

I don’t know why I care.

I don’t know why I’m trying to put something back together when it was never whole to begin with.

Until I look at them.

Until they look at me.

Until I touch them.

Until they touch me.

And even though the memories don’t come back.

I know.

I know why I stay.