I sat outside the tent to watch more of the sky and the silent stars.
Are they not afraid of the dark? Or are they just used to it?
The dog is already comfortably asleep inside. German has his eyes closed. And here I am, awake in the middle of the night to think about nothing.
It's been hours of my sitting and I don't know if I am tired or tireless…
I cannot feel anything.
I never thought it is possible to feel such feeling. Or if it became possible because of my dwellings.
I inhaled hardly.
I was alerted when a large shadow emerged beside mine. Yet, I didn't waste time to snap at it. I diverted my eyes to the bonfire in front. My noiseless breathing is seen in the cold air.
Silent, I watched how the flame danced on the top of each pile. And how flame ashes them to nothing.
Like it didn't belong there. Like it doesn't really exist. And like ashes, they should be one with the ground, unappreciated.
Unrecognizable.
I felt the urge to wrap myself around myself but I didn't. German stayed on my side for hours without talking. Just accompanying. I can hear his occasional sigh but it isn't really bothersome at all. And honestly, it is the most comforting thing to have. Ever...
I wonder when will he be tired of me too. I wonder if he wanted out too. Or if he just doesn't have a choice.
I closed my eyes tight, bracing myself for another heart clench. I hardly opened it, in unison with another wave of anguish. If he would... I'll just probably just...
Just beside me, the phone in the grass lit up. I watched it for a while. The call dropped and so is the notification of message. Without a second thought, I grabbed and threw it into the searing flame.
Another trail of thought rushed in me.
Really now?
I did another quick glance at the burnt phone... on its ashes. Unbelievably calm, I stood up when I finalized my thought.
I'll be meeting up with her.
-
"The bitch finally cam-"
Frantically, I pulled my pistol up and aimed it at her. Perfectly placing it on the center of her pretty little head.
Her curled lashes flicked prettily before her eyes widen in panic. I watched her as she held tight to her small yellow Dior handbag and how those red nails dig on its strap.
Oh, dear Rebecca. Why would you ask death to come after you?
Raking the whole of the only opened mall at this early hour, I have no clue of where her bodyguards are. And why she made an effort to challenge me to come right here right now is a big riddle to me.
She is barely a cockroach to be crushed under my feet.
Helpless. With no chance of an escape.
I stretched my finger on the trigger and didn't even flicker when a gun kissed my temple.
Of course, always guarded.
And how can I not get used to being aimed by a gun?
"Drop the gun."
Immediately recognizing the merciless baritone voice, my grey eyes shaded. I didn't waste any time to turn the whole of my body to his side. Instantly, the gun that's kissing my temple is now touting the center of my forehead. My pistol, however, remained aimed at Rebecca as my eyes challenges war on the scathing beast in front of me.
The obvious height difference made me lift my head up to meet his black intense eyes. His expensive formal white longsleeves, tucked in, and the scent it has, loomed the rest of my nose like a familiar dish I loathe to taste but can't escape from.
"Shoot," I whispered, breathing near his lips. Looking straight into his furious orbs.
Stopping any possible scene to escalate on my mind, I did what I am best at. Challenging him.
His merciless eyes remained heated on me, but I caught how they toured quickly on my hand and the gun. His jaw clenched and his eyes dimmed more.
"I am not afraid of death. Is she?"
He gave me cold eyes.
"Why are you coming after her, now? You always offer death to people" he is getting critical.
"...why the fuck is death always on the corner when you are around?!"
The last statement ranged on my ears hard.
Death is always on the corner when I am around?
I noted it inside my head. Unwillingly.
I wasn't the one who texted for a meet-up! Damn, I never even planned to be where I am at now! Did I wish for that woman to barge in and bring death to my home? To my mom?! Who wanted a life like mine? Do I want this for myself? Hell no! I got lost!
I fucking got lost!
Why is it too difficult to understand? Why is it all on me?
I wanted to say that aloud but with the conclusion etched in his eyes, I didn't. I wouldn't. I'd rather die than give anyone undeserving, my side of truth. They'll only believe the truth they want right?
I am tired of wanting to be understood. They'll always disappoint.
In the end, their fingers will only be pointed at me, no matter how hard I cry "help".
"Would anyone believe I am not asking for a near-death experience in the first place..."
His brows gradually furrowed at me.
"You got a lot of nerve, baby"
He watched me intently, jaw clenching. I gave him extreme emptiness. He will never understand the place I am in. He can never cure the pain I have suffered.
Then his eyes, for how many times around, watched the gun on my hold. I'd like to believe he was nosy of my bare hand but that would be foolish because no one would hate a hand like how he glare at it right now.
Or is he angry that in just one flick of this hand, I'll take her damsel's life?
My heart inappropriately clenched at my own thought. I don't wanna remember, but oh... I could clearly remember how he completely ignored me when I was bleeding on the floor. With all of the people against me. Threatening to kill.
But for her, just one gun aimed and he is pointing me his?
"Have you attend-"
Before he finishes, I made a swift move to grab the gun on his hold and encapsulate his large frame when some familiar assassins appeared on each corner of the mall. I kicked the back of his knees hard.
He immediately kneeled on the floor.
I coldly and effortlessly placed the tip of his gun on his temple.
He looked up at me, probing. Still angry at something. He raked the whole of my body, searching for something I don't care about cause I am minding every gun that is faultlessly aimed at me.
"You guys define me as someone offering everyone's death when it was everyone that's offering me it."
Although my eyes are on someone else, I detected how Remus tried to take a grasp of my right hand to probably snatch the gun so I swayed it away from his hold.
I threw the gun into my left hand which is still holding another gun, and placed them directly on his beating heart. I did peek at his low state before I taunted all of the assassins to scare and petrify me with their vicious glares.
But I wasn't scared nor petrified at all. All the more I am bored of why they are taking too long to move.
It was a long silence of evocative death glares and I stand attentively waiting for the man under me to brashly move and harm me. To make me an offering.
However, instead of a bold move, I felt feverishly weak when his calloused fingers softly graces my injured fist.
Cautiously. Leisurely.
Skipping to step his fingers to the parts that'll hurt when pressed.
"I bought a lot of bandages." I heard him lowly murmur under his breath.
"At home"
He tightly closed his eyes as if something pained him when I threw him blank eyes.