Wednesday, she was quiet. The atmosphere that converge the house was graveyard silence. Travis during the day took his his time exploring. The house was large with different scenery. He went to the back, from the encircling veranda facing north, the mountainous jungle loomed. All these dense landed forest owned by one family, the Arcadas. For generations, they had been around; they were people of affluence that had the adulation and respect of the people of the city. The Arcadas were forces to be reckoned with and Travis was left wondering why it became like this? Why this great family remains one? It was only her. The haughtily explosive power wielded by this family has diminished, a candle now trying it's hardest to generate that former light, exhausting it's wick in an all consuming anger. With the world backing that light towards the edge, it becomes forced to explode even more. While Travis explored the areas he could reach and pondered over these things, a sudden uneasy thought came into his mind and a wave of pity tried to force it's way, he fought it back. There should be no pity for something like her.
The other guys didn't care to do much, faces looking gloom and down. He wondered, Travis did again, if her mood affected theirs, not directly, but in a universal way, if that makes sense. They felt her pain in their own body.
Thursday came with it the screaming and breaking of furnitures and anything that moves. The waves of her anger was felt in the living room as Travis and two of the guys: Elivish with Buck, played a card game. Colby had refused to join, muttering an unintelligible reason but the others didn't mind, their moods better off than yesterday's. So, half the day, after a heavy breakfast, they have been on it. They were not much competitive as Travis would have wanted, but it was more bearable than seeing a bunch of grown men being sad because their miss was also sad.
Burst of screaming and profanities which all had to do with cavemen brutality and inflicting pain before death continued through the day. He wonders, Travis did, if she had had anything to eat since the incident. If there was a stockpile of food in her room that chased away any pangs. He wasn't going up there to satisfy that curiosity. In her chaotic mess, without restraints, an interruption is all she needs to fly over the edge and finally be done with him. All angry bouts have a process, like his father's, all has its procession.
Friday, she was quiet.
*****
Jovic lingered by her windowsill. She tried to weave a spell, a spell that will help to numb every feeling; her growing addiction. Her eyes glowing feint purple like a weak electrical current. She couldn't, actually didn't want to. She didn't want to get rid of her anger. She wanted to tap deeper into familiar waves of anger that burns as it's swept through the body, anger that should be quenched only by the death of a certain person. The death of that bitch, Julia. Her name leaving a vile residue as it rolled out her tongue. Her name had to be repeated though, only then, will her memory never forget. Only then will her person appreciate when breath leaves the body, the deathly stillness, accompanied by the cold.
Pangs of hunger obstructed such schemes. Castrophic anger playing no match against nature's need. Nothing but weakness raking her body. Her flat stomach grumbling, staging a strong protest. Food was subjective. Jovic fights those needs or tries to fight those needs as she stubborly sits by her windowsill. Too weak to weave spells, too hungry to be angry and too prideful and ashamed to venture downstairs.
She suddenly jerked out from the window still. Someone was literally trying to knock off her door off its hinges. She knew right away it was Travis, unless the house was under some attack. Travis was the last person she wanted to see; her head hung for moments in shame.
The extrance to the door partly open, the head of a girl poking out from the ajar door. With squinting eyes, she looks up at the man who currently besieges her door, her disheveled hair framing her face in knots and tangos.
"Hi," she greeted curtly, lowly.
"No need to be all shy around me now," Travis said smirking.
"And who do you call shy?" Jovic countered harshly, she stood ramrod straight and folded her arms. They stood staring at each other.
Travis smiled. Her vile character was back. He wriggled his hand sideways and pushed the door until it opened widely, his eyes sweeping over the mess that's her room. His eyes voicing his disapproval. Jovic rushed back into the room picking up different clothes, her undies that were in less than ideal places. She could afford to pick up her clothes but other things like, scattered broken pieces of glasses and furnitures that gave the room a picturesque essence of a war zone has to be done by other methods. Her eyes going purple; little warm sweet adrenaline wrapping round her body, she whispers under her breath. Breath freezing, curtains dramatically whooshing, a bright light glows. The glasses rising, slowly retreating like in a typical back-in-time movie. Ever disarray, every dirt cleaning after itself. The war-torned room in a minute looking squeaky clean as a hound's tooth.
Travis loudly exclaims from the door, mockingly clapping for her. Unsteadily, she sat on her bed. Travis walked softly into the room with an expected gaze in her direction.
Walking into the room dragging a trolley, he inexplictly mocks further, "No wonder you slip into a mad rage everytime."
Jovic gives him an exasperated look. She will forgive him only because he brought food.
With both hands, she gestured between them, "You felt it didn't you."
Travis groaned. "First of all Miss, there is no t'elepathic' link whatsoever...between us! Secondly, can you just shut up," he sets the plate down on the makeup table "sit down," With his hands on her shoulder, he forces her to sit, "and eat. While feeling grateful."
And she did begin to eat. As she ate, she could feel his eyes on her as he sat on her bed cross-legged. His eyes stayed on her like a hawk watching a set of young chicks; observing,examining. His eyes were seeping heat into her scalp. She was uncomfortable and he knew it, just finding it more important to stare. Her fork chattered noisily on the plate. "What?" she asked, catching his brown eyes as she turned.
He shushed her. "Nothing, just observing. Trying to pay attention to details. I don't normally care but times have changed."
"And what have you observed so far? Be kind and tell me what you think you know? Everyone seems to have an opinion nowadays." She grabbed her fork tentatively, her hand swirling it absently around her plate.
Travis uncrossed his leg, cross it, uncrossed. Leaning forward, he put his hands on his chin in an Aristotle-thinkers-sort-of-way and said, "I've observed so far that...do you really want me to tell you?"
"Tell me," she gritted out
"I've observed so far that you really eat like a pig." Widely gesturing theatrically with his hands towards himself, playfully he continued, "In front of a handsome man like me, no manners, no decency. How will I charm you?" he exclaimed, grinning good-naturally like he just couldn't help himself.
Jovic laughed, covered her mouth with a hand. Wide eyes looking around like deer caught in a trap, picking up her fork, she flunged it at him while covering her mouth tightly, laughter in her eyes.