He was at her door, Lydia's door. There was an address plate outside her house which he didn't see the last time he was here.

When he opened the door, he wished Charles would have been present there, next to him because it'd be easier to tackle this dire event. He tried to distract himself but he could hear the clamors and all the noise already peeking in the hallway. For some odd reason, the talk happening inside the room sounded mellow and intimate as if it was a secret.

His stride slowed down automatically and his ears focused a bit better, zooming in on the mellow talk. And then he heard what it seemed like a faint voice, a woman's voice, giggling and laughing.

Could it be Elizabeth or Lydia?

Lydia's laugh was quite distinctive and slightly throaty and he knew it well enough from all the despicable meetings. He knew this was not her. He didn't want the hallway to end but it was quite short and he reached where the light poured out on the floor, creating a skewed rectangle.

The woman inside wasn't Lydia. He stood there, looking at two people and their smile faded as they saw Darcy standing at the threshold, looking like a serial killer from one of those movies. He didn't know if he should step in or just run away because of what he saw.

He saw Elizabeth, almost half naked with a satin robe hanging loosely around her shoulders and her bra peaking through. She was on top of George, with her right knee digging into the soft mattress of the couch. She jerked and stood up, her eyes fixated on Darcy, wrapping the robe around herself and tying it as tightly as possible.

She advanced towards Darcy with an expression of annoyance and something else which hurt Darcy like a sharp pain in the chest as if he knew what was that about.

George also got up, buttoning his shirt and standing up, just watching.

"You...with all your dirty little tricks?" She said

"Baby..." George whispered in a tone which was barely audible and Elizabeth took a tiny pause looking away from Darcy.

"I know what you did to her." Elizabeth got an inch closer, staring straight into his eyes and with every word she said, Darcy felt smaller and weaker.

"Who?" Darcy muttered, looking at her.

"You cheated on her. I hate even looking at you." Elizabeth turned around, throwing her hands in the air like a kid throwing temper tantrums. Not wanting to look at him.

Darcy blinked quickly, not believing it for a second, but her image seemed to get clearer and clearer before his eyes with every blink.

"I didn't. Cheat… On anyone!" Darcy's voice caught in his throat sounding like an injured man at battlefield.

She stepped closer and hissed, "Lydia TOLD US EVERYTHING!" She put her palms on his chest and thrust him backwards with force and he fell backwards onto the floor, plunging deep within, smashing the floor with a massive hole. He wondered if Lydia had a basement and found himself on a bed, opening his eyes. His heart eat had quickened and got out of control as if he just ran twenty miles. His heart was thumping against his chest.

There was no Elizabeth or George or even her house. He couldn't get the word Lydia out of his mind, feeling a horrible taste in his mouth. He sat upright, all his sleep snatched away from him. He had trouble recalling everything before the sleep and the dream, as if he had a memory loss or something. What did he do that day before? All he could think of was Elizabeth and the nightmare. And suddenly, Alejandro's polite face with a smile plastered on it appeared in his mind, giving his hyperactive mind a mini attack. It was 4:30 in the morning. His heart would skip a beat everytime he'd think about how upset she was with him, dreading if the nightmare would turn real any minute and it would all appear right before his eyes, again.

He had never been so stuck and scared in his life. It was the worst combination of feelings ever, he'd realised in the moment. How he wished the sun was out, that he could forget all that he witnessed in the dream and maybe it would be probably easier if he would have listened to Alejandro.

For quite a while, he kept wondering if love was really supposed to bring out the best in us? And if it were the case then, why didn't he enjoy all the parts of himself as much as he did before. The new Darcy...the Darcy in love after all was a weak, emotional turd or turning into one soon enough.

It all went by in a blur and Darcy didn't talk about his nightmare with anyone. Because he knew Charles would respond saying, "But at least you saw her again" and Colonel would say with that sleepy voice, "Man, it sucks".

He didn't even try to sleep again and even if the sleep would come, by any chance, he was sure to wake himself up even if it meant being slapped over by himself just so that he doesn't fall down that pit again.

Post shower, he took a pill and went straight to the couch, eating butter popcorns. He turned on The Simpsons, watching it with a poker face, looking almost like a cartoon. And no, he wasn't a maniac or a psychopath or even a sociopath. In the vicinity of his home, where nobody was observing him, he was his most authentic self, which was a bit odd. And that's how he was, an oddly strange human, struck with his own thoughts and his mind getting more and more baffled with every second.

He checked the time after his massive bowl of popcorns was almost done. It was 4:40 pm. He was asked to be there at 6. He glanced at his phone for a bit, before placing it back on the table and his bowl of popcorns too, as if it weighed on him.

His eyes, again on the television, at the Simpsons characters, but not nearly there. He was lost in thought, as if planning or contemplating or analysing something. And within five minutes of doing that, he was up, went straight to his closet. Whilst he was on his way to the bedroom, the thought of phoning Lydia did cross his mind but he let it trespass.

If it turns true, Charles is right, at least I'll see her, Darcy thought. And that alone, was enough motivation for him to fight whatever was to come.

He was about to get in his car and it was slightly windy as if the weather also knew something was up. Something stormy. Charles was calling him and he got in, fairly quickly and closed the door with a thud.

"Yeah. Charles." He sounded put together and crisp.

"Just called you to tell you about the stars and the fate. Doesn't seem like they're in your favor tonight."

"This is the best your psychic buddy came up with. What's it been? 15 hours? Or more." Darcy started the engine, revving slowly.

"And you're not even lucky to begin with!" Charles screamed as if he had a realisation.

"Says the most unlucky dude on earth!" Darcy laughed out loud, thinking back to an embarassing incident that happened to Charles when he was being a bit too overconfident.

"I had a dream, Darcy. A nightmare." Charles spoke and Darcy felt cold chills, glaring at the phone screen as if Charles was next to him, jerking him out of a nightmare.

"Really?"

"Yeah. A ballroom where you were there and Elizabeth came up and you stepped forward...just like how you are, so lost." Darcy thought he'd laugh but he didn't and continued, "She smiled at you and stretched out her hand and just as you were about to hold her hand, I saw Lydia caving in….and muttering something in her ear. Changing the tone of the ballroom. She turned it from light to dark. I feel a strange vibe from her. You better be careful."

"I doubt that highly. She can't get in my way. There is no way!" He accelerated slightly, overtaking.

"Yeah I know. But don't give her a chance to destroy things between you and Elizabeth." Charles spoke

Darcy realised that Charles had never been so serious like he was right now, something was up and he could feel the storm around, "I'm thinking of setting you up with Lydia. You both are alike, in my opinion at least." Darcy tried to lighten things up a bit.

"Your opinion is a load of crap." Charles snapped back at him, and then five minutes in and he was still rambling. He had gotten distracted. About what? Darcy didn't pay much attention. His attention span was never the best and ever since he found her, it was just the worst. His mind would never stay anywhere else for long enough and it would always bring it back to her.

He had come a long way, riding for about 15 minutes. He would feel an odd shudder, randomly, not knowing if it was due to be nightmare or probably some other unexplainable reason. Saying that he wasn't scared at all would be a white lie because he was. As much as he was scared of hurting Elizabeth and her getting agitated with him, he was also scared of Lydia. The real true snake. Charles even said it the other day she should be named Snake instead of Slake.

And the worst part of it all was that he knew her as much as he knew Elizabeth. Or maybe even less because at least he knew Elizabeth liked Calendula tea. There was something about Lydia that always made his senses tick as if he was Spiderman, always telling him like something was off, like she couldn't be trusted.

But he didn't care much. He didn't care about Lydia but now that the snake was lurking around the rabbit, he had to go far and beyond to save the rabbit.

His brain would always come up with these random analogies and now more than ever and he kind of wanted it to stop doing that. To stop linking everything with Elizabeth.

"Hey, buddy. I gotta go." Darcy spoke cutting his story of how he once got caught stealing something at someone's house.

"Ohh...you there?" Charles asked curiously.

"Yeah."

The door looked the exact same, just as how it did in his dream but there was something different. He could hear muffled music already and he wasn't even inside. After ringing the doorbell, he waited. He couldn't hear any footsteps or any movement.

It could be anyone. Doesn't have to be Lydia, it could be Elizabeth, or even George, he thought.

The door opened with a flick, taking him by surprise almost as if popping the bubble of his thoughts. Lydia stood there, smiling at him, vainly and out of courtesy it appeared, half of her face lit by the light on the pavement. In the dingy lighting, he observed what he hadn't in even the brightest ones. It was her face, it looked more mature as if she was older...much more than he was aware of. He did the same. Threw a fake smile of courtesy and got in.

It felt colder than outside, Darcy noticed almost immediately. And quite silent too. There was barely any change in her living room. The massive coffee table was the first thing that he glanced at when he got in and everything looked exactly the same as it did last time he showed up with Charles, also the tan leather sofas but the people, the room was devoid of that tonight. Lydia picked up a transparent glass, sipping on it and Darcy couldn't tell if it was water or wine.

It was only those two in the room. He glanced at his watch, not really hiding it because none of them spoke anything. Not really awkward silence but rather intentional. She'd been sitting on the side of a sofa, staring in the distance for far too long and when she didn't ask for Darcy to sit, he settled down, not waiting for her to ask him.

Their eyes met and she was almost done with her drink, probably a sip or two left which she did gulp down but still toying with the empty glass in her hand.

"So... You asked me to come over?" He spoke, not a tad bit interested in spending time with her in utter silence.

She looked up at him, deflecting from the Parisian rug at the floor she'd been looking at. "Yeah?" She uttered as if she'd been awakened from sleep.

"Colonel told me. The... whatever it is. You'd be knowing, I'm assured." Darcy kind of felt a tinge of foolishness seep in.

"Knowing...about what?" She asked dryly, with a hint of curiosity barely detectable.

He sighed pausing for a bit.

"Colonel called me, the other day." He paused again, breaking the eye contact, "for something. Goddamit, it slipped off my mind." His voice, sort of hushed and just to himself. He wondered if she was joking or maybe had a memory loss, "Colonel told me you were the one to call. To invite me over."

He stared at her, expecting for it to ring some bells. She kept the empty glass on the table with a clink. Her eyes met his and something about her changed. It was the look on her face. He could tell.

"Okay. That's new. I didn't call him, firstly and..." She spoke, her voice rising as she went on.

"Nevermind." He cut in, coldly. His voice barely audible but enough to stop her in her tracks, "I misheard or something. Doesn't really matter." He stood without waiting for a response from her and she looked at him in disbelief, "I'm just gonna." He knocked his head towards the right, where the exit of the room was, "Head out. See you later."

That was the contradictory thing about him. Because of his calm leathery voice, his coldness seemed even sharper, even cutting and often times, disrespectful. He did hit the chord right tonight. She felt disrespected. It was surprising her face didn't turn red with all the blood running impatiently within her body.

"Alejandro...was his name? If I'm not mistaken." It was Lydia. Darcy stopped in his tracks and turned to find Lydia glaring at him, a sly grin playing on her lips and her eyes, sleepy. She continued when he stopped and faced her, "He warned you about this. About tonight. He told you not to come. Why didn't you listen to him?" She advanced towards him with something in her left hand which he couldn't see, "Or was it that friend of yours. I forgot him. What was it?" She paused, pretending to think for a second, "Oh yeah...Charles." She spit out on the floor with disgust, her voice rising.

"Alejandro, Charles, what're you getting at?" The words slipped out of his mouth, his voice calm and underwhelming.

"Why don't you begin? You with your dirty friends and your dirty little tricks." She hissed, glaring at him, inching closer to him.

"Dirty little tricks". She sounded nothing like Elizabeth. Not even close to the shadow of her, Darcy thought.

"You're sick. You're gross. You're disgusting..." She kept advancing towards him, screaming in his face, "You're GODAWFUL! I hate you...so much. And you're never... And I swear." She was so close, about to step on his shoes, "You're never gonna have Elizabeth. And all you'd ever get is pure hate because that's what you deserve. Darcy, that's what you ARE." She inched slightly backwards whispering, "Disgusting piece of shit."

He stood silently, not seeming surprised, anxious, shocked or even embarassed. He would hate to give her the satisfaction that she did at least a decent job. He knew that nothing he could say right now would make her have a change of heart. And he didn't even care about her "change of heart". All he was anxious about was what she said at last.

About Elizabeth.

That night, he did get convinced that she was quite literally a witch. And that too, a foul and evil one. In that moment, he stared directly into her eyes longer than he'd ever imagined to do so because of how much he detested it. But he made up his mind during her screaming and psychotic outburst, in an instant, that this is the last time he is looking into her eyes.

Never again!

[To all the lovely people leaving reviews: I know the characters may deflect from their original ways of behaving. For me, I always wanted to write it in the most modern-esque way possible. If some people are offended, I understand, my loves. Just know that it was never my aim to write a love story with the same characters because they are just quite perfect in my opinion. I wanted them to have FLAWS. The kind that people in today's world have. I hope you understand where I'm coming from. Still very grateful for all your lovely comments.]