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Riley made eye contact for a second before moving to the left and trying to shove his way past. Scarlett stood her ground, refusing to budge from her spot on the stairs. He was either going to have to talk to her or send her flying.

He sighed and tutted. "What lie are you talking about?"

"The one where you said you'd only slept with two girls, and that it was in the past?" Scarlett intoned, sticking out her chin. She could feel her pulse quickening as the strange, brain-swimming feeling returned.

"Oh jeez," she muttered, stumbling, and almost falling.

She would have tumbled down the stairs, but Riley quickly shifted and caught her in his arms. Held closely and coddled like a baby, she stared up at his concerned frown as he took her to her room and gently placed her on the bed.

For a moment he sat beside her. He picked up a brush from her bedside table and fiddled with it, head and eyes down before he finally spoke.

"It's not like that." He shook his head. "That woman I'm seeing... it's not my choice."

"What?" Scarlett frowned. It sounded like an excuse and a poor one at that. And yet... something in the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes told her he was genuine. Or maybe she simply wanted to believe that was the case. She was happy to convince herself that he was the good guy, not because she felt a magnetic pull in his direction, but because she trusted herself not to fall head over heels for another moron.

"I... I can't talk about it. What does it matter anyways? We aren't together. We can't be together." His eyes misted over, his face becoming cold and dark as he spoke.

"Why?" Scarlett cried. "Because of Adrian? Hmm?"

She sat up despite feeling incredibly lightheaded.

"Stuff Adrian!" She threw up her arms. "Screw him. I'm done with all this nonsense."

"I can't." Riley stood and paced, raising his hands to his ears. "I can't do that. You don't understand... it's..."

He looked like he wanted to say more but instead shook his head and left the room.

With an exhausted sigh, she let herself fall back onto the bed. The pillow let out a little puff of air as she landed, breaking her fall. Unable to contain her emotions, she turned around and screamed into it. She screamed again and again until the pillowcase was wet with her breath and tears. The frustration inside was too much for her bear--it felt as if she was about to explode.

There wasn't enough air in the room. It was too small and made her feel trapped. The thought of bumping into Riley again made her feel ill, so instead of risking it she opened her window and leapt into the front garden. Luckily it was dark enough that nobody passing by would get the shock of seeing a girl jump from the first floor unharmed.

Without shoes, a jacket, or any clue of where she was headed, Scarlett ran. She ran up the main road, through the country lanes and eventually in the Gilmartin’s sheep field. Past the lush green field were the trees of the wooded area she'd explored as a kid. It felt like home as nature called to her, beckoning her into the fold.

When she stopped, surrounded by a thicket of trees and bushes, she found she didn't need to pant, but instead held her breath and listened. The sounds of animals, insects and the wind whistling through the trees combined with the smells of the forest to awaken a flurry of memories. Memories so deep and so old they had to come from somewhere else—connected to Scarlett but not a part of her life as she understood it.

It felt so right. Until the pain started.

She doubled over, clutching at her stomach as her body twisted and changed.

'Don't worry,' her mother's words echoed in her memory, 'Before the pain gets too much to bear, you'll pass out, and when you wake up...'

Scarlett woke up to what felt like a dream. She didn't feel real because she didn't feel like herself. Her senses, her weight and centre of gravity had altered drastically and though moving in this form felt foreign—it also felt as if she were on autopilot. As if it were a skill she'd always had—she'd just forgotten about it until its reawakening.

Her thoughts seemed to have slowed—as if filtering through a thick layer of treacle or honey.

One idea that occurred was to find something reflective. She wanted to see the colour of her coat and eyes. Her mother and father were both greys, father darker and mother with more white patches. As she neared the stream, she saw she took after her mother, with a mostly pale grey, almost silvery coat. A little white patch under her chin was so pristine it glistened like freshly fallen snow.

'I'm beautiful.'

A scent in the air stole her attention. One she could not ignore.

'Riley.'

She could smell him so clearly. The scent patterns connected in her mind, giving her a detailed map of where he'd been and how he'd felt in each instance. It was at that point she knew he loved her back. She knew it as plainly as she knew the water was wet.

'I'm going to be with him no matter what anyone has to say about it.'