A/N: Ano, it's the last chapter of this threeshot. I had a hell of a lot of fun writing this particular chapter, mostly because it's from the 'monster's' point of view. Thank you for the lovely reviewers, and I hope you liked this story.

"Bathe in kerosene,

The words tattooed in his veins."

I. Spells

The watched pot never boils, I guess. When you're staring at the clock for hours, it feels more like you've been there for days instead of a couple hours. Yet I'm constantly surprised by what little happens here.

What goes on in our minds shouldn't count, right?

I am genuinely shocked that she hasn't at least attempted to kill herself yet. Let's forget the fact that I'm the whole reason her life went down fucking drain. Hypothetically, in a different lifetime, we could have been friends. In a different lifetime, maybe, but definitely not now.

This is the thing that I hate the most. The guilt. It comes at random moments. It comes when I watch her sleep, especially. That's the only time she ever smiles. I wonder what she's dreaming about. Her brother, father, mother, friends.

Never did I think that it would be me.

I'm not modest. Don't get that image stuck in your head, kids. I only use logic, and this defied logic. Maybe that's why they call Stockholm Syndrome a psychological phenomenon. It's something I can't grasp, because I only think about myself. I don't pay attention to 'people,' per se. I'm more socially inclined than that fucking Near, but I actually know less about general people than him.

My big question, though is this: Is Yagami Sayu really part of the general people in my world?

II. Sorry

I don't do apologies. A snowball would sooner have a chance of surviving in hell. I killed a person? No apology. I destroyed someone's life? Still no apology.

Fell in love?

That warrants a 'sorry.'

It's awkward. I hate it. She's bordering on a daze and full blown sleep. Like many other times, I wonder what's going through her mind. I haven't seen her in person for almost four days now. Her father's coming to get her in a week, anyways. That isn't enough time, if you put it in perspective, to rebuild someone's life and make amends.

I would know.

I'm jealous.

Matt talks to her sometimes. I see the way she lights up. I'm not a retard, thank you very much. Nor am I oblivious to the palpable magnetism Matt seems to have on women.

(seriously, what do women see in a complete nerd anyway?)

I keep trying to tell myself the same thing over and over again. You're not jealous. You do not envy your best friend. It's your fault she hates you, anyway.

III. Hasta La Vista, Mi Amante

It's only five days.

I don't want it just to be a chapter in my pathetic life. I don't want it to be forever, either.

Just give me another chance…

If I learned all the languages there was to learn, there would still not be enough to say about Sayu. She is something that I can't explain. She's got this radiance of…something. It gives you a headache, but the good kind of headache.

Light-headed, maybe.

God, I'm hopeless.

The last time I ever saw her, she was smiling.

I guess that she'll be better off without me.

I appreciate everyone's reviews. Thank you for pressuring me to make this a threeshot.