Chereads / To Love is to Kill / Chapter 5 - ‘If thou didn’t tell me, who thou art, Then who did?’

Chapter 5 - ‘If thou didn’t tell me, who thou art, Then who did?’

He stared at me for quite a while more. Finally, I gathered my courage and told him,

"Um....I am here for Mark. Is he at home?" He looked at me quizzically as he asked,

"Who?"

"Mark Hannigal."

"Oh, he said he's Mark Hannigal huh? Quite naive of my brother. Come in."

I was crossly confused. It was quite suspicious. What did he mean by 'he said he is

Mark Hannigal'? What was his real identity?

But the inside of the house held me awestruck. The house smelt of warmth and Wall

Street together. A chandelier stuck at the roof off the house and it reached the end of the floor. Everything seemed equalising and a fireplace was seen and soon a familiar face raced down the staircase. His face was a mixture of happiness and shock when he saw me. Surprisingly, I exhaled a sigh of relief. His eyes were amber today. I wanted to ask a question, but he interogatted first,

"What are you doing here?"

I admit I was taken aback. Seriously, what was I expecting? A sweet soft hug as a

welcome gift? Please, I keep my expectations low.

"Well, I wondered why you were not coming to school." I hesitated while saying.

"So, now you are interested in me?" he said with a grin. I blushed. But the moment was disturbed.

His brother happened to be there to ruin the moment. He smirked and said,

"Well, well. Isn't she the one?" I got confused again and interjected.

"What does he mean, Mark?"

His brother tried to step forward. Mark's jaw clenched.

"Yes, indeed. Why don't you show your true self to her, MARK?"

"Don't be in a hurry, brother." I saw him clenching his fist and scaling his teeth. Anger

boiled inside him. But soon his eyes locked with me and he shrugged off and took his coat, wrapped his hand on my wrist and led me out of the house.

"Let's go for a short chat, shall we?" he asked.

I just nodded. For the first time, I had seemed this dark side of a good boy and it

seemed massively obsessive. There were secrets, I wasn't welcome into.

I saw his brother for a last time, that evening, grinning contently as if he had known me from a long time.

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It was quite dark outside. Cold winds blew in a snow chariot outside. Unfortunately,

my nose turned red and my hands went pale. Mark was in no mood of jokes but this

killing smile never left his mouth.

"Hot chocolate?" he called me out.

"Excuse me?" I entered back to reality.

"A cup of hot chocolate will be nice?" he smirked.

"Sure." I lied.

We went to Pietro Nolita, an Italian cafe where everything was quite, pink. I wondered if Mark thought I was a girly girl.

"Sorry about the pinkish environment. Their services are exquisite by the way."

"I like it in here."

"Don't lie."

"What....what do you mean? I am not...." I was next to speechless.

"Oh. Don't worry. Your body language says you don't like pink much. Your lipstick is

dark crimson and clothes quite plain. You are a tomboy or your mood can be

dependent."

I was too stunned to speak. Without blinking, I stared at him, while he was chuckling

until the waiter came upon our table.

"May I get you something?"

Mark looked at me and declared, "Yes, the usual, please."

He eyed the waiter as if they had telepathy.

After the waiter went off, I asked him, "You come a lot here?"

"Yes, indeed. I love this place. Not the colour, I must tell you."

I laughed. Then I realised, I had laughed for the first time after many days. Even my

laughs shrieked by now. But that didn't seem to really bother the man in front of me.

His amber eyes were fixed on me. A warm smile covered his face. He was indeed

mature unlike me. But my unconscious still had some clarification need. I asked him,

"What's your name?"

"Mark Hannigal." Liar.

"But your brother said..." and he cut me off with a "Don't bother about him. He's a

psychopath." And I go no other information except for the name of the brother.

Michael Hannigal.

We talked about universe, girls, coffee and even dogs. I realised he was trying to lead

me off the topic and that made me more stubborn to lead him into his personal stuff. I decided to go with a polite and simple question first,

"Why weren't you coming to school?"

"I...just moved in, right? So, I was helping my brother made that house comfortable."

His tone reflected that maybe he was used to do nomadic methods of roaming. I

decided not to ask. I digested the reason but my psychoanalytical mind worried

otherwise. He seemed to either be a good liar or I was a tad paranoid.

Our hot chocolate and waffles came. We got comfortable and started gulping down.

The cold weather outside contrasted with the insides of the fireplace.

My hand went on his while I heard myself saying, "You can tell me anything, you

know."

And suddenly, a cold tingling sensation was there in my body. His hands were

unusually warm. 'Hot' was the word for it. I meant it. Literally.

He smiled faintly while I uncovered his hands from my grip. And the rest of the day

went on and on, talking about random things...

It was dark when we left the cafe. Luckily, it wasn't midnight so I won't get any

scolding from my mom or her husband. She got worried about me a lot. Maybe because of what happened to dad that night. He was murdered. How? No one knows. But that left a mark on us forever. It was like a red stain on a totally white cloth. But adultery has its own advantage. Teenage? Not so much. There were rules and then there was independence which I respect. Boundaries lie everywhere.

Mark drove me home that night. I was afraid my mother might think if there was

something going on between both of us. A 'heart's thread' she calls it. She thinks that

dating is a kind of a series of experiments. The wrong one leads to a blast while the

right one brings fortune for whole life. I, on the other side, never believed or trusted

love. Dating is the result of teenage hormones. But I might have been having second

thoughts about it.....

I opened the gate when the car stopped short. Mark touched my hand and a chill went through my spine.

"Can I ask you for a favour?"

"Sure." I squeaked.

"Please never visit my home again. Anywhere but my home. And I promise you. I'll be

there in school tomorrow."

I just gulped and gave him a nod.

Something told me that I must obey him anyway.