He looked at me with those ridiculously beautiful pink eyes, the same ones that I used to fall for without hesitation, the ones that always made my heart skip a beat. Those eyes had once held the promise of something deep and meaningful, a bond that I thought would last forever. But now, every time I saw them, I was filled with nothing but seething rage. It felt like a cruel joke that my heart had once beaten for him. But now, every glance he gave me only served to ignite the fury within me. "I am sorry, I truly am," he said, his voice carrying that infuriating, calculated calmness, as if he actually believed his words. "But you'll do it."
Sorry my ass. His words were hollow, empty. There was no real remorse in them, no true regret. I could see right through him, feel the underlying insincerity in his tone, like a sickening knot tightening deep in my gut. His apology wasn't for me; it was for himself, to make him feel better about what he was forcing me to do. It didn't matter how sorry he claimed to be. He was never going to change. Not for me, not for anyone. He was using that apology as nothing more than a shield, a convenient excuse to absolve himself of guilt and push me into whatever twisted plan he had in store. And I was done with it. I was done being his pawn, done being the one who always forgave him and gave him second chances. There was no more of that left in me.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. "How you're only thinking of yourself?" I growled at him again, my voice low and full of venom, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. It wasn't just a question. It was an accusation. It was the truth that had always been there, buried beneath his charming smile and empty promises. "How you justify telling all those lies like it's a fucking second nature?" I snapped, my fists clenched tightly at my sides, the familiar burn of fury igniting in my chest. The lies. They were the foundation of everything he had ever said to me. And now, they were the final straw.
His lips curled into that snakish smile, the one I hated the most, the one that had always made my skin crawl. It was a smile that said he had won, that he was in control, that he could twist and break me as easily as he wanted. It was the smile of someone who thrived off my anger, who enjoyed watching me lose my composure. It was the smile of someone who knew he could get away with anything. And that realization, right then and there, struck me like a slap to the face. How had I been so blind to all of it? How had I ever thought he cared?
"What?" he said, his voice dripping with mockery, playing dumb as if he had no idea what I was talking about. He knew exactly what I meant. But this was his game—he always pretended not to understand, just to drag things out, just to see how far he could push me before I snapped. He knew it would work. It always did. But not anymore.
I didn't give him the satisfaction of explaining myself further. Instead, I growled, my voice dripping with disdain. "Are you still mad about that, darling?" he asked, the word "darling" falling from his lips like poison, like a pet name he thought still held power over me. The way he said it, with that false sweetness, made me want to puke. It was almost as if he still thought he could manipulate me with those words, still thought I would melt at the sound of them, like I had once done. But not anymore. Not now. Not after everything he had done to me.
"One day, I swear to the gods," I said, my voice low but filled with a quiet, unshakable conviction, "One day, you will pay for this! Karma is gonna come to collect your debt. None of this will come out unscathed, you bastard."
I meant it. Every single word. I had seen too many people like him—people who thought they could get away with anything, people who believed they could destroy lives without facing any consequences. But I knew better. The universe always balanced things out. Even if it took time. Even if it took longer than I wanted. It would come for him. And when it did, I would be there to witness it.
He didn't seem phased by my words, though. Instead, he looked at me with that smug, insufferable expression, like he was above it all, like my anger was just a passing inconvenience. "Maybe, maybe not," he said, his voice dripping with that irritating calmness. "But both of us know this isn't going to happen in this era, right, darling?"
How could I have been so blind? How had I not seen it before? He wasn't afraid of consequences. He didn't care. He knew—just as I did—that he was untouchable for now. That no matter how much I wanted to make him pay, no matter how much I fantasized about his suffering, it wasn't going to happen. Not here. Not in this lifetime. And that realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
"I don't fucking care about how much time it takes," I growled through clenched teeth, my anger flaring up once again. "But I'll make it happen."
He just smirked at me, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. "That's another thing both of us know is impossible," he said, his voice condescending, like he was speaking to someone far beneath him. "You'll never be able to hurt or even less kill me, darling. Don't make a fool of yourself with empty hopes."
The audacity. How could he say that? How could he just stand there, looking down at me with such disdain, telling me that I was powerless? Telling me I could never hurt him, that I would never be able to touch him? Didn't he realize who he was dealing with? Didn't he know that there was always a way, no matter how impossible it seemed? I had fought before, and I would fight again. I was far from powerless.
I couldn't hold back anymore. The anger, the pain, the betrayal—all of it came pouring out in a single, raw question. "How could you do this to me?" I yelled at him, my voice cracking with emotion, my eyes welling up with tears. I hated myself for letting him get to me, for caring about what he had done. But I couldn't stop the flood of emotions from spilling over. "How could you do this to me?" The question echoed in the empty room, the weight of it settling heavily between us, unanswered.
"I had to!" he said, his voice colder now, more detached, as if he were explaining something simple, something logical. "And darling, if I were you, I wouldn't freak out about this, considering that the worst is yet to come."
My breath hitched in my chest, a shiver running down my spine at his words. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, the fear creeping into my tone despite myself.
"You'll see," he said, his eyes glinting with that same dangerous amusement that made my skin crawl.
And just like that, I was left in the dark, trapped in the anticipation of whatever twisted game he was playing next. The uncertainty gnawed at me, and all I could do was brace myself for whatever he had in store. Whatever it was, I knew it wouldn't be good. Not for me.
※※※
My mind began to fog over, the weight of the conversation slowly pulling me away from the present moment. I could feel the bad memories trying to claw their way back to the surface, but I pushed them away with all my might, forcing my thoughts to connect with Lume's instead. The bond between us flared to life, warm and comforting, like a lifeline in the sea of confusion that threatened to drown me.
["Are you okay? You're safe?"] Lume's voice filled my mind, his concern evident even through the mental connection we shared. I could hear the worry in his tone, and it made me feel slightly better, just knowing he was there. It was as if his presence in my mind gave me something to hold on to, something solid amidst all the chaos.
["I am, don't worry. I'm safe here for now."] I replied, trying to reassure him, even though part of me knew that things were far from over. There was no real safety, not with him. Not with the dangers that lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike.
["Good. Did you eat? Did you sleep? Did anyone try to harm you?"] His voice was filled with rapid-fire questions, each one laced with that protective instinct I had come to rely on. He was like a lifeline, a constant in the storm of my life. And it was moments like this that reminded me why I cared for him so much.
["Wow wow, fire boy, do not worry about me. Not yet, at least."] I teased him a little, though I appreciated his concern more than I let on. ["But answering your questions, yeah, I ate, yeah, I slept, and no, no one tried to hurt me."]
["Do not tell me not to worry about you, you irresponsible wild witch."] His mental voice was sharp, and I could practically hear the scowl on his face as he said it. I knew he was only trying to keep me safe, but sometimes he could be so overbearing.
["Oh come on, Lume, you aren't my mom."] I grinned to myself, the playful banter making me feel a little lighter. He always had this way of making me smile, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.
["Don't cross this path, you unstable little witch."] There it was, the familiar nickname that made me roll my eyes. Lume and his teasing.
["Okay, okay, I'm unstable and irresponsible and wild blah blah blah..."] I chuckled, rolling my eyes at his constant jabs. ["How about you, Lume? Are you okay?"]
["I am. No hot males here, but I'm okay."] He responded, laughter dancing in his words.
It was always the same with him. Even when things were at their worst, we still managed to find a little bit of light, a little bit of normal. And for that, I was grateful.