"Lauren."
"My sister." I hadn't talked to her since forever. I thought he was reading messages instead of actually going through my contacts; either way, there was nothing to hide.
"Steve."
"My brother." I changed my position and laid properly on the couch, my feet dangling from one side rest, my head leaning against the other, as I closed my eyes.
"Can I see your pictures?"
"Suddenly polite? Go on." I snorted and got sleepy. I should visit the hospital to get a checkup after suddenly dying, but they would want to talk to an adult, and my caretaker would call my father if he knew my near-death experience. And I wouldn't want that; a thousand tests I wouldn't want to make either, so it doesn't matter.
"Who is that?" Henry turned the phone, and I peeked at it. Ah, these are old pictures of me drawing Elisa. I had multiple drawings of her, not because I loved her so much, but because she wanted to be drawn. So I drew her, made a picture of it, sent it to her, and she found it 'meh' so I had to draw another one. That went for some time until I told her she could go fuck herself, and she broke into laughter, saying that I must really like her for drawing her so often in my spare time.
I chuckled when thinking about that.
"Elisa."
"The ex-girlfriend?" Henry asked, turning the phone back.
"Yeah."
"You must have truly liked her." He said, apparently getting the same message Elli's joke was about.
I didn't answer.
"Why did you break up?"
I opened my eyes again and furrowed my brows. Raising my upper body, I stared into Henry's blue eyes.
"Does it matter?"
"I want to talk to her." He said, and I was stunned into speechlessness before smirking.
"You want to ask her if I had ever beaten her or anything? Want to get my psychological profile?"
"If I get the chance to, yes."
I let myself fall back, feeling so damn insulted. Trying to control another unusual outburst I felt coming at this motherfucker, I took a deep breath.
"Write down her number, and do what you want. Just leave her alone if she doesn't want to talk to you. If you stalk her as well, we are getting real problems." Clenching my jaw, I heard him hum before he took out his phone.
I stood up after a few minutes.
"Finished?"
Henry just stared at me, but I had it for today, snatching my phone back and leaving his apartment without another word.
I walked in the overall direction of my home until I waved down a taxi. A while later, when I came to my apartment, I was in the midst of doing the dishes when I thought back of what my useless pity had brought myself into.
Maybe because of my dumb cooperation, Henry had managed to get close to everyone I knew and have known, getting them on his side. What would he tell Elisa about me? I can imagine already. I remembered what my friends said about me in my visions, and I remembered what even Chelsea, who I hadn't that much contact with before the party, would say in the future.
It was suffocating, the idea that it would happen all over again. Becoming an outcast again, having people whisper about me again, having people hate and fear me again.
I thought it would be easier because I had been through it with my family already, but now… I think it would deliver me a blow I wouldn't be able to take.
Furthermore, I really liked my life at the moment, and Henry was in the midst of destroying it.
And although I am uncharacteristically emphatic to him, even touching a corpse to help him, helping myself in an attempt to wash away his accusations, I am reaching my limit, slowly but surely.
The limit of empathy, as I slowly began to really hate that guy.
I threw a bowl on the floor and felt a bit better. Hadn't done that before—not on purpose at least. I bent down and gathered the broken pieces. Doing so, I looked up, seeing blue eyes that watched me from the window besides the door. His face was frozen, and his eyes were judging.
Startled into speechlessness, I doubt he came for his clothes, which I forgot to change out of.
This time I didn't ask him to come in, and this time there would be no free food, nor hospitality. When I was finished cleaning up, I put the blinds down, looking straight into his face while doing so.
Not seeing him anymore, I felt better.
While showering, I started to feel drained when imaging his presence still being so close.
"Motherfucker." He should stop before he crosses a line. I wouldn't recommend him to touch.