I stood eventually, wiping the spit from my cheek. I opened the door and was unsurprised that Christian was standing on the other side, face twisted in anger. Of course he'd eavesdropped.
"You killed her," he says, and it's not a question. There is nothing I can say that will change this. I nod mutely.
"Say it." His words are laced with venom. "Look at me and say it."
"I killed her." He's up and moving before I finish speaking, picking up the painting supplies from the floor and hurling them at the wall. The canvases hit with a wet slap, paint smearing and dripping down the wall.
"You killed her." His voice is raw.
"Chris, I–"
"Don't. I don't care what you have to say." I watch the paint pool on the floor instead of him. It reminded me of the splatters that Ralf coughed up. Another mistake.
"You know, I forgot for a while." I meet his gaze and flinch at the naked hatred on it. "I forgot you were a heartless, bloodsucking monster."
"I'm not a monster!"
"Then why did you kill her? Hmm? What possible explanation can you give me to justify this?" He kicks the armoire in the silence and topples the chair. The air vanished from the room.
"She wanted to meet with me," I admitted. He looks up at me and I can almost feel the fury radiating from him. "She said–"
"Say you're sorry," he interrupts.
"I'm sorry you're in pain." The space between what he wanted me to say and what the truth was a widening canyon.
"Get out." When I don't move, he slams into me so hard I stumble backwards. I see his expression flicker for a moment before he closes his bathroom door. It has no lock, but I understand the message all the same.
"Get out," he repeats. "Get out!" He turns on the faucet and the shower, but I still hear his sobs. They follow me even after I close the door to his room. The click of the door shutting feels final somehow, and I slide down until I'm seated with my back against the door.
I listen to him sob until he stops some immeasurably long time later.
Strigoi don't cry, but for a moment I almost remember how.
