I'm sorry (part3)
After his sudden break-in into Charlotte's apartment and the failure of his plan to get rid of that annoying necklace, Devin found himself facing a small problem… but one he quite enjoyed.
The cigarette danced skillfully between his fingers as he strolled around his home with light, almost playful steps. His damp black locks dripped onto the side of his face, each drop falling slowly through the air before vanishing.
Her desperate screams still echoed in his ears a mesmerizing melody that filled his body with ecstasy, even if he hadn't seen the expression she made.
"Yes, that's it~"
He exclaimed enthusiastically and clapped, as if applauding his own performance. He was satisfied proud of the mistake he had made. At least his effort in smashing that little pup's skull hadn't been in vain. He was certain that his actions had shattered the heart of the woman whose emotions he so loved to break.
From the very first glance, he knew she was the chosen one.
He made his way to the kitchen table, poured whiskey into a crystal glass, then flicked the ash from his cigarette over the amber liquid with a smooth motion. The tiny specks of ash danced on the surface before dissolving slowly.
Brushing his hair back from his face, his green eyes gleamed for a fleeting moment before he raised the glass to his lips, tasting the bitterness of the liquor. One sip just one then he turned in a half-circle, leaning his elbow against the table.
A wild grin spread across his lips, laced with a lethal charm.
"That feeling... it makes me come alive again."
Devin whispered softly, savoring the deep satisfaction in his chest.
"Thank you, Charlotte Smith… for being born into my dark world."
He raised his glass toward the ceiling, as if toasting his own happiness, before downing the rest in one go. Then, without hesitation, he hurled the glass to the floor. The sound of shattering glass did nothing to stir him. Unbothered, he turned on his heel and strode toward his bedroom, leaving behind a delightful mess.
Leonid gently closed the door behind him, then slipped off his shoes while Charlotte remained secured in his arms.
He walked quietly into the room, his footsteps barely making a sound against the cold floor just like his fleeting breaths that brushed against her chestnut strands.
The faint scent of the husky pup, Hunter, drifted into Charlotte's nose as she pretended to sleep on Leonid's shoulder. A tightness gripped her chest, but she forced herself to remain still, clinging to her act. She knew everything had changed between them life would never be as sweet as it once was. Not after she had been the cause of Hunter's death.
Slowly, she shut her eyelids, swallowing the bitterness and holding back the urge to cry.
But who was she really fooling, other than herself? Leonid could always tell whether she was asleep or awake.
Leonid remained silent as he entered the bedroom. He approached the bed, adjusted Charlotte's position in his arms, then gently laid her down on the mattress.
She continued her act while he pulled the blanket over her with careful hands before sitting beside her.
Leonid let out a deep sigh, his silence lingering before he finally spoke in a calm tone.
"Can we talk?"
He waited patiently for her response, but Charlotte ignored his question, refusing any attempt at conversation. She tried to keep up the pretense of sleep, but it was obvious he saw right through her.
Her eyelids nearly fluttered open, and her brows twitched slightly. Feeling exposed, she turned onto her other side, facing away from Leonid's gaze.
Leonid watched her intently before shifting his weight, placing his hand on the other side of the bed. Slowly, he leaned toward her, as if time itself had paused between them.
"Tell me… why are you avoiding me now?"
His whisper brushed against her ear, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down her spine. In an instant, Charlotte curled her shoulder over her ear, shielding herself from the heat of his breath against her skin.
And refusing to let his voice reach her.
After those words, Charlotte knew she had been caught there was no escape. Yet, she didn't answer his question. She remained silent not to deceive him, for he had already seen through her, but because the words simply wouldn't come out.
Leonid tilted his head, casting a quick glance at her slowly opening eyelids, then at her firmly pressed lips.
"You don't feel like talking."
He spoke calmly, then moved his hand with deliberate precision, grasping her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, gently turning her face toward his.
"That's unfortunate..."
He paused for a moment, his gaze locking onto her eyes, which reflected his serious expression, before he continued.
"Because I won't back down until you tell me everything… that I don't know."
Charlotte pursed her lips, discomfort rising within her. The truth was killing her more than her silence was. It felt absurd that she couldn't muster the courage to tell Leonid about the man she had once sworn she would destroy if she ever saw him again.
But she was the one who had suffered at his hands.
When Leonid noticed the slight movement of her jaw, the hesitation in her expression he instantly released his grip on her cheeks.
Charlotte bit her lip, staring at him, her eyes welling with tears, as if the words she couldn't say were growing heavier in her chest.
"I have nothing to tell you."
Her words sounded sincere to him, yet they felt as heavy as a dagger to the heart.
Leonid narrowed his eyes, his voice turning sharp as he whispered.
"You're not denying that there are things I don't know about you."
"It's not like that..."
Charlotte tried to deny it, but Leonid cut her off firmly.
"If it's not, then tell me the truth!"
His patience finally snapped, and his voice rose.
"We both know you're hiding something from me!"
His hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her forcefully. His icy blue eyes burned with a threatening intensity, piercing into her soul just as his fingers dug into her skin.
"I won't accept your lies anymore, so say something, Charlotte!"
Charlotte's body trembled under Leonid's strong grip, her lips quivering as tears streamed down her cheeks. She struggled to say anything anything that might calm him down.
She was afraid, shaken by the change in him, by the edge he seemed to be teetering on.
"No…"
She whispered weakly, her voice laced with despair.
"I'm not…"
Charlotte raised her fist and weakly struck his chest, trying to finish her sentence.
"A liar."
Her hands fell as she covered her face, releasing a quiet sob while her tears poured down endlessly, as if flowing along an infinite path.
The moment her fragile fist hit his chest, Leonid took a deep breath and turned away, his hands slowly leaving her shoulders. The sound of her muffled sobs echoed in his ears, filling his heart with a suffocating tightness.
He remained silent for a moment, watching her shoulders tremble before he reached out, gently pulling her shaking fingers away from her face. He wasn't sure if he wanted to comfort her… or if he simply needed to soothe himself by making her talk, by forcing her to tell him everything.
"Seeing you cry like this…"
His words were slow, as if he was only now realizing the weight of what he had done. Then, in a low voice, he added,
"... makes me feel like I'm the guilty one here."
Leonid lifted his hand, his thumb slowly brushing against her cheek, wiping away the never-ending tears. But he didn't pull away. On the contrary, he leaned in closer so close that his lips nearly touched her trembling ones.
"Am I the guilty one now, Charlotte?"
He asked, his voice calm yet charged, as if he already knew the answer.
He watched her for a moment, then whispered near her lips,
"Do you hate me?"
He waited, but he didn't give her a chance to escape his question.
"Tell me, Charlotte."
Instead of answering, Charlotte closed her eyes, yet her tears didn't stop. It was as if his cruel words had struck the last fragile chords inside her.
Leonid froze, staring at her, then clenched his teeth, as if trying to suppress his emotions. Slowly, he lowered his head onto her shoulder, his warm breath brushing against her skin.
His upper body pressed against hers mercilessly, his weight engulfing her entirely. Yet she didn't complain. She only cried silently, painfully.
"Please… stop."
His voice came out hoarse, almost like a desperate plea, as if every part of him rejected the sight of her breaking because of him.
Was he this angry? Perhaps… but not at her.
He was angry at himself.
At his ignorance. At his inability to understand her. And yet, he had taken that anger out on her, without a single thought for how fragile she truly was.
"I'm sorry."