Hello, it's me. I was wondering if after all these weeks you'd like to read... (Please sing this in your heads in Adele's voice otherwise my lame attempts at being funny will be more prominently lousy than they already are and if you don't laugh at this then I will.)
So, it's literally four-thirty in the morning as I update (again on time, I might add, with a smug asshol-ish smirk) because it just occured to me that there's a whole time-zone difference thingy and I'm not sure if it's the tenth where you live but...uh whatever.
Leave my meaningless ranting aside and please accept my koala hugs as I chant an infinite stream of thank yous. I honestly can't believe the story has reached twenty chapters and it might not seem that big of a deal but it is to me since I'm the kind of person who loses interest in things very quickly so, I was never expecting it to come as far as it has. Don't worry, I'm not gonna start that whole emotional grandma lecture even though I feel it coming...
Moving on to the chapter itself...it's sad, it's a sad chapter and I'm an evil person. Angst is like oxygen to me so I'll keep destroying my characters' lives with my sort of masochistic behaviour until I cease to exist. Also, the ending is slightly different from the teaser I posted on tumblr, just know that I had to do quite some editing in this chapter and as usual I'm gonna thank my awesome betas and I'd also really like to thank killuasgirl123 from tumblr (I'm sorry but I don't know your account so...), your anticipation for this story honestly kills me with joy.
I'm not really sure when I'm gonna update next because I do have a lot of the next chapter written down but I'm thinking about making a few changes and I'm also having my exams... and exams are so fun because in one moment you're like: "I got this, I can go through this!" and the next moment you're rolling around the corridor screaming about suicide and Lord Voldemort... but yeah. I got this. I might update early but I'm not sure and you shouldn't trust me because I wouldn't trust me either. Just, guys please dig in, I talk too much.
Chapter: 20
"Intransigent."
If you were me, there would be two kinds of Killua Zoldyck you'd encounter from time to time: the one that pretended you didn't exist and the one that treated you like his property—let me explain.
Citing from a few weeks ago, when Gon had asked me to come over to their apartment for his tuition. I waited for a few minutes after knocking lightly before Killua appeared from behind the door with wet hair and a towel around his shoulder.
"I—uh— Gon invited me for— I mean he has a calculus test on Monday," I unraveled nervously.
He gazed at me with a bored expression like I was the last thing he wanted to see.
For a moment, he didn't say anything and I took advantage of the few seconds to stare at him until my chest felt heavy.
Then, he jerked his head to a side, peeking inside the door. "Gon!" He called loudly.
I heard Gon's distant voice replying with something I couldn't seem to catch.
"Take her somewhere else," Killua spoke barely louder than a whisper and for the third time in the course of a few months, shut the door in my face.
Before I could even seem to process what had just happened, I heard him and Gon argue very loudly from inside and I just ran away to avoid Gon from coming after me, which I knew he would. It had taken me an hour of crying in my car to get my shit together again after that.
And then, there were unpredictable days like these:
The cloudy sky cast a depressing outlook as I plugged in my headphones as I sat cross-legged on the pavement with a book on my lap. Miraculously, I had a free track today.
Just when I put in one of the ear buds, my phone started buzzing furiously and one glance at the screen reminded me that it was the alarm I had set this morning since I didn't have time to take my pills.
I fished out the medicine and water bottle from my bag, taking out the respective quantity of each of the pills. Literally a moment before I was about to pop them in my mouth, I caught sight of Killua staring at me from a few steps away with a cigarette between his lips and a raged expression.
It was so sudden, I didn't even understand what he was implying with his glare for a few seconds until it clicked and I stared at the tablets on my palm. "My supplements," I clarified, raising my eyebrows. It was so ironic because this was the second time he seemed to catch me in the middle of some action that gave the impression I was attempting suicide and it was especially more absurd that he was scowling at me with that killer between his lips.
His eyes turned vacant again and he turned around and walked away just as usual. I hated that. I hated that he wouldn't step in and just wouldn't even quite step out of our little orbit. I detested the way he acted like he didn't care and loathed the way that he actually did. Every single thing he did made me want to hit my head repeatedly against a wall.
It wasn't fair how he thought he always had some sort of right over my life when he threw me away from his like I was never there. It was unforgivable, the way he lead me on, the way I kept draining myself emotionally, the way I kept glancing more than I breathed at my window every day. Sometimes, I really wished I could walk up to him and maybe do something so damn unexpected that he'd either push me away completely or take me in.
He knew I saw and I knew he wanted me to. How could it go unnoticed, how one day I fell asleep in my backseat after school on a rainy day and when I woke up, my car was parked in my porch. How the hell did he expect me not to take into consideration the fact that he was always there.
Every time I let him into my thoughts, I gave my self a severe headache along with a promise of dealing with him next time he ever did anything of the sort and every fucking time my knees felt weak when he did. And then it was always just one look at him that made me feel things in my stomach I didn't want to feel. It had been a whole week since the last time he had even addressed me.
"College applications?" asked Gon from my shoulder, gesturing towards the numerous envelopes stuck between the pages of the novel in my lap.
"Acceptance letters—actually, scholarships," I mumbled.
His eyes slightly widened. "Four?"
I sighed as I scooted to a side and made room for him.
"I wasn't expecting to get accepted everywhere I applied; precautions," I explained.
He sat down next to me and started examining the folded sheet he had just taken out of one of the envelopes."Except you were." He gave me a very knowing look. "Come on, your grades, seriously."
I bit my lip. "Doesn't matter since I can only go to one place."
"So, have you decided anything?" He was now examining the other letters.
"I—I'm not sure, but I wanna stay close to home. Maybe York New," I ventured.
"Must be exciting," he commented. "College."
I just stared at him for a moment, putting the pieces together. "Of course you're not—"
He shrugged. "No," he confirmed.
"So, you're leaving after graduation?" I tried to keep my voice from sounding heavy.
He gave me a look, I failed to identify. I mean, I knew they would be leaving. I knew Killua would be going away, but why was it hitting me so hard now? Except the fact that it was always eating me up from the inside. "Do you want to get dinner or something tonight?" He asked, trying to change the subject.
"Uh—I—I've got plans, actually," I revealed. And the surprising part was, I wasn't lying and the even more freaking part was that a few days ago, Naomi had walked up to me in History class, aware of everyone watching and asked me to come over to a party at her house on the weekend. Yes, I wasn't hallucinating.
"Oh," he said. "Okay. I'll see you later?"
"Sure." I waved as he disappeared.
I went back in, not sure where I was going and why I was suddenly so abashed by something that had been hanging in the corner for over three months now.
The two classes that passed after that seemed to be like a dull memory I wasn't part of. I tried not to acknowledge just how exhausted I felt as I walked through the hallway. I knew I was tired, but dodging that for as long as I could seemed like a good option now; I couldn't even recall the last time I actually went to sleep. Coming to a halt near my locker, I leaned against it.
When my eyelids suddenly felt very heavy, only then did I become aware of the blurred and noisy figure in my peripheral vision: Killua was fidgeting wildly with the combination of his locker, just a pace away from me.
I couldn't help but stare. I drank in every detail of his face: how he seemed just as exhausted as I felt, how he looked a lot leaner and how his hands were shaking uncontrollably. It had been so long since I saw him this up close.
Then as if the world immediately stopped, he turned to me and just laughed heartily.
I looked at him speechlessly reminding myself this was the same guy who was scowling at me a few hours ago.
"I forgot the combination, do you mind?" He demanded pointing.
My mouth fell slightly open and I quickly looked behind me, just to make sure he really was addressing me; when I saw that the hall was empty but for the both of us, I swallowed and tried to keep steady then walked to him. "Of course," I mumbled. I knew his combination just like I knew his phone number: by heart. Slowly, I turned the dial, very aware of him watching me.
"How are you?" He asked softly.
My hand froze in place and I turned to face him. I felt a huge lump in my throat when I attempted to answer. "I—" I breathed and the first tear came streaming down before I had the chance to stop it.
His eyes slightly widened.
"I'm so— good," I lied, wiping my cheeks. "How are—" I began to debrief but all at once it seemed too much for my body. I felt the sickness in my stomach and clasped my hand to my mouth. God, I was going to barf right here.
Killua seemed to grasp this quickly as he swiftly picked me up and rushed to the girl's bathroom.
Luckily, I made it just in time and threw up my breakfast in the toilet. I held my palm to the wall for support, thinking just how humiliating this whole situation was. Catching my breath, I flushed away my misery and walked to the sink, gargling several times and taking out the mouth spray from my pocket, again hyper aware of him gazing at me.
After a minute or two, I shot myself a glance in the mirror, deciding I looked bearable and walked to him.
Without a word, he handed me a small candy bar, which I gladly chewed on and felt the bitter and minty taste go away.
He simply kept studying me, with his arms crossed around his chest, as I did him.
In the next instant, I like to blame this on the lack of sleep, I was on him before he could even understand what was going on. Just as I expected, he didn't answer back but contrary to my assumption, he didn't push me off.
It was like kissing a statue, I didn't mind though, I almost forgot how good touching him felt. I kept kissing him and he didn't stop me, when I really needed to breathe, I finally let him go and took a step back.
His expression was unreadable and he stood in the same position as before.
"Sorry," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeve. My tone clearly indicated I wasn't sorry at all.
He sighed and very gently removed my hand, which I realised was holding his arm. Just before he left, I saw his expressionless mask falter for an instant, his eyes betraying emotions I didn't want to name, but his face was composed as he walked away leaving me behind feeling like a desperate idiot.
Composure and determination were among the few things he valued in the compact trajectory of his life and on the surface, they appeared to be effortless, though at times they drained him empty; his own choices, his own decisions ricocheted right back him in the seemingly most harmless of ways but tore him in shreds that he didn't even have the strength to count, much less put back together.
Times like those—when his will was weak and he wished his settlements would be as simple as tossing a coin and let the contour of what fate decided envelop him.
Moments when he wanted to cheat—moments when his eyes rested on her. The fragile instants when he wanted to create diversions or even meaningless excuses, sometimes just to hear her speak his name.
He loved to watch her at sunset—with slight aureate glints in her short-hair, when she sat alone on the park bench or when she threw her head back with her eyes closed as she stood by her locker. He would glance at her from far away, long enough to well his chest up with indescribable pain but nowhere near long enough to satiate his thirst for her.
And then there were yet more compelling ticks when he would catch a glance of her trying to blink away her tears or force unconvincing expressions on her face, times when she would sneak glimpses of him as they sat by each chest didn't hurt then—it ripped apart.
But never in his life had his will felt as weak as it did in the few seconds during which she crashed her lips to his. It had taken him every last drop of strength he contained not to hold her right away and if time didn't forbid—seize that one moment and clasp it in his delusional eternity. His chest didn't rip apart then—it went numb trying uselessly to cage the restless pounding of his heart.
He wouldn't touch her—never. He wouldn't dare approach her, he knew he wouldn't have the might to turn away if he did. He would content himself by merely being her shadow, pouring around her like a sleeting, noiseless rain and she would be the fire in his core that mercilessly consumed him.
But these were all sole and empty thoughts she would never be aware of. His past would only be a bloody outline that he would never allow near her and just like each one of his sufferings, he would carry every minute secret of his to the demise he was ultimately sure to reach.
"No drinking," my mom forbade after I mentioned Naomi's party to her as she sat on my bed and I cleaned up my room.
I raised my eyebrows at her in question.
"You're not twenty-one, this is what responsible parents say," she explained.
"So, you had your first drink when you were twenty-one?" I asked, arranging the books on my shelf.
She cleared her throat. "That was a different time," she justified.
"Right." I rolled my eyes. "Those times certainly did call for under-age drinking and some quality high-school sex with bonus window stunts."
She burst out laughing so hard, for a moment I was worried she was choking. "You made your point," she said after a while, struggling to keep her voice steady.
I couldn't help but smile at her expression.
"So, Gon isn't coming over to study today?"
"No." I leaned against my desk as I took out my cell-phone from my pocket.
"You two hang out a lot."
"Yeah," I said absentmindedly as I scrolled through my timeline.
"Are you dating?"
I jerked back so fast, my mobile slipped from my hand. "WHAT?" I asked astonished. "Stop, that's—"
"He's really good-looking and nice."
"He's like— he's like Killua's brother, okay?" I breathed. "God, mom, now I won't be able to look him in the eye. Thanks a lot."
She rolled her eyes. "Firstly, I was joking and secondly, does that mean you and Killua are secretly together?"
"What would be the point of that?"
She shrugged. "He could be a guy with a secret identity and you guys might be hiding your relationship for the sake of your safety," she ventured."He always looks so mysterious."
I pursed my lips. "And this is why I tell you not to read fiction."
"But seriously," she said with a strange tone. "Why don't you ever tell me what's going on between you and him?" she held up the frame with our picture from the side-table.
"Nothing—it's nothing," I mumbled. "I just like the picture, is all. I couldn't cut him out—that'd be weird."
"Claire?" she called in her all-knowing mom voice. "You're twitching your hands and you do that when you're dying to say something outloud."
I scratched my head and met her gaze. "I kissed him," I confessed gesturing awkwardly.
Her eyes widened. "You—did he kiss you back?"
"No."
"Did he push you off?" she asked, gazing at me intently.
"No," I repeated.
"Well—did he say something?"
"No." I sighed.
She just stared at me. "Let me get this straight," she mused. "You and Killua had a fight and you got mad at him and then you apologized, but then he was mad at you and then you kissed him?"
I looked at her with a blank face. "Pretty much, yeah."
She rested her chin on palm. "I love you and everything, but couldn't you just have liked a guy who only wanted a degree and three kids? It would've been a lot less complicated."
I bit back a grin. "Don't worry, you won't have to deal with this drama again until Katie's a teenager," I assured as I bent down to pick up my abandoned phone.
"Yeah, mostly because she already has suitor," she mused.
I snorted and tried to remember just how many times I had mercilessly dropped my cell in the past few months.
"You know Hachiro used to say that a man's hormones are probably his worst enemy."
I gave her a look of complete disbelief as I let out a short laugh. "Not another word," I warned as I shook my head in perplexity and walked out of the room.
"Or jealousy..." she hinted.
And those were the words that kept swirling around in my mind in meaningless myriads as I drove through an unfamiliar neighbourhood, trying to find Naomi's house. It wasn't particularly hard since in the matter of a few minutes a set of seemingly inhumane screams and music was blasting as I neared a darkly lit house.
After parking a few houses away, in the only empty space I could find, I got out and made my way towards her door. It was not a surprise that I hated parties and neither was the fact that I had never been to an actually one. Just as I got in, someone who was presumably high, bumped into me nearly throwing me against the wall until I caught my balance and I was assured that tonight was not going to be pleasant in any way.
I wasn't a fan of ear-splitting tunes or getting drunk but since Naomi had personally come up to me to ask me to show up, I figured it would be mean if I didn't, but I realized my absence or presence wouldn't have much noted by her as I spotted a mane of red haired against the wall, behind some guy.
I shivered as I looked away, feeling very uneasy. It made me consider for a moment the way Killua touched me: it was always very gentle yet very passionate at the same time. The description that lingered in my mind when I considered the kind of intimacy he had with me was that 'he respected my body', I wasn't ever sure if it was a real thing but that was it to me.
"Hey," a familiar voice called from behind interrupting my analysis.
I got so startled, I let out a small scream but luckily it was inaudible between all the commotion that was taking place around me.
"Hey," I mumbled as Naomi stood by me somehow looking very different, like she was utterly worn out. "I though you were—" I began pointing at the wall but then stopped mid-sentence as it occurred to me that it was possible for more than one person to have auburn hair.
"Hey," she repeated dreamily and almost tripped until I caught her arm.
I pursed my lips as I made sense of everything. "Woah—you're—wasted," I commented as I helped her stand straight. What was it? Barely eleven o'clock, and I was pretty sure she had done her share for the night.
"What?" she asked confused as she put her arm around my shoulders.
"Okay." I let out a breath as I helped her walk towards where the kitchen apparently was, which was a task itself since not only was she putting all her weight on me but we also had to get past a throng of perkily high people.
"You're so pretty," Naomi mused as I helped her sit near the counter.
I couldn't help but laugh. This was probably the first time I had seen a real live drunk person and I guessed this was a clear example of the kind of absurd things they went around saying. Killua had always told me I talked about dogs when I was nervous or drunk.
"Right," I replied holding back a snort as I retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator and handed it to her.
"No, really," she persisted. "You're really beautiful."
I nodded awkwardly as I stared at a bunch of people boom with laughter in the lounge. "Okay."
"That's why I not liked you," she blabbered and I tried to resist the urge to react at her currently splendid grammar. "You know I thought you were always pretending," she continued after taking a sip from the bottle and gesturing madly with her hands.
I didn't say anything. This felt so weird, like I was taking possession of something that didn't belong to me. Just to appear busy, I grabbed one of the numerous cups on the kitchen island and started sipping the unpleasant tasting beer.
"You know, you're first day in fifth grade, you just walked in—all nervous and clumsy and I thought—" she paused as she leaned her chin against her palm. "You only did that for attention." She began laughing so loudly, I thought she was having a seizure. "But," she emphasized raising her finger. "It was way after that that I realised you didn't even know and you always had your nose buried in a book—I couldn't even believe it," she maffled lazily.
I just stared at her, swallowing really hard and feeling like I was part of a cheap soap-opera. I almost even looked around, waiting for the moment some random person would show up and tell me that either this was a prank or candid camera.
"Yeah." she started toying with the bottle in her hand. "And people asking you out and everything—I hated that."
"Nobody ever asked me out," I defended as I rubbed my face. God, this was weird.
"Oh, they did, you were just so stressed when someone talked to you, people took it as a hint—" she nearly slipped from the stool she was seated on before I barely grasped her wrist and she rested her back against the counter.
I cleared my throat as a very passionate couple suddenly appeared against the kitchen door, sucking at each other's faces. I had never felt so disgusted in my whole life.
"Get a room guys!" Naomi bellowed in a shrill tone and to my surprise they actually went away.
"Where's your boyfriend?" she redirected her attention to me.
"I don't have one," I mumbled and swore to myself that this would be the first and last party I would ever attend in my whole life.
"Sure you do!" she announced loudly. "You just don't know it."
"Oh, okay," I agreed. "Right."
"I know what I'm talking about," she convinced. "Killua, you know."
"We're not together," I said reflexively.
She gazed at me, her cheeks very flushed. "Sure you are, you keep staring at each other when the other isn't looking." she chuckled. "He's so into you."
I looked at her with my eyebrows raised, feeling speechless. I gulped the whole drink down in one go, my head feeling slightly heavier; getting drunk would be so much better than this conversation.
"Although you do know how much he's into you, literally," she added raising her fist in the air. "Unbelieveable in bed."
My blood would be on fire from all the embarrassment I almost experienced as soon as I understood her first sentence but it was the second one that held my attention. I froze immediately and jerked my head in her direction."What?"
"Yeah, I mean, you know," she roved happily.
"You—you slept with Killua?" I asked in incomprehension.
She blinked at me. "Yeah, but that was ages ago and not anything real." She was examining the bracelet on my wrist now.
Suddenly, I wasn't regretting slamming the locker door in her face anymore. "When?" I asked more aggressively than I intended.
She sighed tiredly and seemed disoriented for a moment. "Last year, start of term he—I don't know," she said confused. "He just wanted some stupid keys to that dumb teacher's apartment."
I clenched my fists, crumpling the cup in my hand. "Who?"
"Killua," she said innocently.
"No!" I said loudly. "Which teacher?"
She pouted and then dropped her gaze, like she would fall asleep at any moment. "That Isawa guy."
I stared at her with my mouth wide open. "Why the hell would he need you to get a pair of keys—why the fuck would he even need a pair of keys?" I questioned exasperated.
"I don't know—" she said pensively. "That was all he said..."
I held my breath. "How did you—I mean, was there a specific way you were supposed to get the keys or something?" I probed trying to come up with anything.
Her face went blank and then she giggled breathlessly. "That old man's a pervert; I screwed him."
I gritted my teeth and glared at her.
Once more, she almost dropped to the floor but I held her up and carried her upstairs to the only room which I could find unoccupied at the moment. She climbed in the bed as soon as we got in and I threw the sheets on her before I got out and walked downstairs feeling very numb and disoriented.
Just as I stood on the last step, I was very sure I saw a blur of silver-hair disappear in my peripheral vision. I clenched my sweaty palms and left with my rage at its zenith. I couldn't stop my hands from shaking as I walked away, leaving the uproar behind me.
I tried uselessly to concentrate on the cold wind hitting my face as I roamed in no particular direction. I felt so incredibly hollow, unimaginable anger seeping through me. It was merely a few moments later that my resolve broke and I stopped as I spun around.
"STOP FOLLOWING ME!" I roared digging my nails in my palms.
Killua stood there unabashed, with his hands in his pockets, staring at me very intently; only a part of his face was visible in the streetlight.
A very long silence followed, in which we just kept looking at each other. My breathing was so loud, it was the only thing that could be heard in the dead of the night. As soon as I regained any feeling in my legs, I turned around and sautered forward.
"Listen to me," he said as he casually walked beside me.
"No," I stated briefly still pacing.
"Claire, honestly, you need to know—" he began.
I froze in my tracks. "I don't need to know anything! I already heard everything there was to it, the last thing I wanna see right now, Killua, is your face, okay?"
He shook his head at me. "Let me just clarify that—"
I resumed walking. "Let you clarify what? That all this time I was the one who's been consuming herself over the fact that I did everything wrong and I was the sole culprit while you've been crawling around town fucking every single—"
Abruptly, he grabbed both my wrists and then held them in one of his hands as he pushed me back against the nearest wall, his palm over my mouth, silencing me.
"You're drunk," he observed quietly.
I narrowed my eyes at him, pushing him back. "I'm not drunk," I emphasized.
"You are," he convinced. "Let me drive you home."
I closed my eyes and bit my tongue. "Killua, I'm not—" somewhere in between that, I involuntarily stumbled forward. I found it impossible to accept that he was right. I wasn't drunk, okay maybe a little buzzed.
He held his hand out to me, one of his eyebrows raised.
I ignored him, trying to steadily make my way to my car. It wasn't surprising that he was right beside me as I held the bonnet for support.
"Easy way," he proposed calmly. "Hard way." He revealed a pair of car keys dangling from his finger, which I recognized as mine.
I couldn't explain the rage I was experiencing in that minute, still somehow, acting reasonably, I got in the passenger seat and leaned my head back.
He was already seated and had started the engine.
I expected his next justification beforehand, when more than a few seconds passed and the car didn't move.
"You're high and you're being emotional."
His words sent an empty feeling through me. "I'm being emotional?" I demanded astonished. "I'm being emotional?" I repeated unable to comprehend his words.
"Yeah," he answered simply, this time he reversed and pulled out.
"You've got nerve, being the bastard you are after all of this." My voice was trembling now.
"Listen to me," he commanded in a terrifying tone. "I never cheated on you."
"WHY DOES IT EVEN MATTER ANYMORE?" I asked consumed with wrath, not caring just how loud my voice was.
His jaw hardened. "It matters to me."
"Shut up!" I said exasperated. "I don't wanna hear it, I—" my voice broke somewhere in between these words. I cried a lot, but I had never cried this loud and this unexpectedly as I suddenly did now.
I saw Killua's hand shiver on the steering wheel. "Don't—please," his voice was so weak and begging.
I covered my face with my hands. "It's not fair," I choked out. "You—you don't get to do this to me."
"I never meant to—"
"But you do! All the time, Killua." I let out a loud sob. "This hurts."
His expression was so crumpled, every part of me ached just from a glimpse of him.
"I—I know I'm selfish—and—" I breathed, trying to force out the words. "I have my fair share of regrets—my fault." My whole figure shook uncontrollably. "I know—but right now, your lies are too much to take—I never said anything, figuring neither one of us is innocent but—" I inhaled deeply. "You're wrong in what you're doing to me—you don't get to stand on the borderline. You're just allowed to go around doing whatever the hell you—" that was as far as I was able to continue speaking.
He was so firm and unmoving all of a sudden that it seemed to me as if he had stopped breathing. "I don't owe you any explanation," he affirmed as he took a turn.
I gazed at him with incredulity. "You don't?" I asked weakly.
"No."
I shut my eyes tight, blocking the tears and let the poisonous fumes of his statement settle in me. "What am I supposed to do Killua?" I asked desperately, my voice shattering. "Do you even fucking know how it feels picturing you with someone else?" I never wanted to voice this, I didn't want to admit this to myself but somehow the words escaped me before I had a chance to even consider them.
He rapidly shifted his eyes, his expression was a blend of tender and stiff now. "Don't be pathetic, you know perfectly well that there's no one for me except—" he paused immediately when he acknowledged just what he was about to say.
Even though I knew he wasn't going to complete that sentence, it somehow should've made me feel better, instead it was all the more hard to take. His words were so painful, my throat started burning severely. I started coughing frantically after a few seconds. It seemed to me that it was nearly impossible for me to inhale a single breath.
"Claire?" he asked anxiously when it didn't appear to be stopping anytime soon.
If anything, it was getting worse by the moment. It would be ridiculous if after everything I'd been through, I'd die of a breath shortage.
In the matter of seconds, he hit the brakes and dug out a water bottle from the back pocket of his seat. He patted my back forcefully a few times until at last, I felt air rush into my lungs and it was the most agonizingly beautiful thing ever.
I sipped the water after he forced the bottle in my hand. My windpipe was hurting like hell.
He sighed as he watched me rub my face wildly with my hands. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" he debriefed in a defeated voice.
I bit my trembling lip and stared at him through my streaming eyes. "You're doing this. You ruined me Killua," I accused feeling perturbed.
He didn't meet my gaze, instead his eyes were glued to the windshield.
"But you know what the worst part is?" I continued after catching my breath. "That I can't bring myself to regret it," I confessed helplessly. "Just once—one time, I wish I could tell you that I hate you and mean it—one time. I'm tired of lying to myself— I'm so tired of this."
At last, he bore his gaze into mine. My heart stopped beating somewhere in the middle of that act. Very slowly, he pressed the back of his cold hand against my cheek and I felt my body unwillingly relax under his touch. Still gradually, he moved closer and leaned his forehead against mine.
I despised the warmth I felt in my chest, I loathed every part of it.
He didn't move, we just kept breathing in each other's exhales for a very long time until he sighed and drew away. I knew in that very instant that we were both as intransigent as the other and this was just a dead end.
"You want to hate me," he whispered in a vague tone as he looked me straight in the eye. "I'll make you hate me, I promise," he confirmed putting his hands in his pockets and throwing a very dark look outside the window. "I swear, I'll make you loathe me," he repeated just a second before he opened the door and got out.
"Killua, wait!" I pleaded breathlessly as I stormed out before even being aware of doing so.
He kept sauntering forward like he hadn't even heard me.
"I'm—please don't go—you're right, it's my fault. I'm sorry," I quickly rushed through the words. I felt so weak and desperate.
He stopped in his tracks and briefly turned to me. "Don't you—"
I interrupted him before he had the chance to flip everything around. "It doesn't matter." I shook my head. "You're right, you don't owe me anything and I don't care, you're right—just please don't leave," I begged, walking towards him. If he left now, I wouldn't have the strength to reach him again.
He kept watching me until I was barely a step away from him.
"Don't leave," I requested, pressing my forehead to his chest and letting the tears, stream down silently.
His whole figure seemed to shake all of a sudden, I felt his breath hitch. "Claire, please don't do this to me," he at last supplicated, the artificial emotionless veil forged in his voice faltering.
"Please, not this time." I whimpered, closing my eyes.
I felt his cold palm on my neck as he spoke. "You have to stay away from me." I tried not to notice how his voice was gradually becoming firmer. If he did make up his mind again, it would be too much.
"No, I don't—"
He pushed me away, shaking his head as he stepped back. "I can't do this." he pressed his fingers to his temples. "I won't let you—"
"This isn't going to go anywhere!" I vociferated. "Killua, it doesn't have to be this way—"
"No," he concluded with authority. "I watched you almost die before my eyes, do you have any idea what would have happened if I showed up just a moment too late? And you're still here, even after going through all of that?" he demanded out raged.
I sighed as I put a hand on my forehead. "That's over, it's not gonna happen again—"
"How do you know?" he questioned. "Everything linked to me is treacherous, this isn't a game Claire, use your senses."
"Okay, then, it's not gonna be unsafe if nobody knows," I allusioned.
That was when he went completely still. "What?" he asked incredulously.
"Killua," I whispered, wrapping my hand around his. "It can change, I mean—nobody will have any idea and we can—"
A look of utter disbelief covered his face, in the next instant he aggressively broke away from my hold. "Keep your mouth shut," he hissed venomously as he grasped the meaning of my words.
"No, it's okay—I don't care, it doesn't even have to be real that way, we can—" I breathed.
"I swear to you, if you say one more word, I will hit you," he roared as he violently took hold of my arm and lead me back to my car. "You see?" he debriefed. "This is what makes me despise myself, you're ready to degrade yourself now for me; I don't wanna even look at you."
"What else am I supposed to say?" I answered back. "I'll do anything."
"Is that what you think I want?" Blunt rage flashed in his eyes. "To snog you, screw you?" The stupefaction of his voice was beyond limit.
The quietude that followed was enough of a reply.
He nodded. "I'm glad you think so highly of me. I'm not going to ruin your life, do you understand that?"
I heaved a sigh. "You're okay with hurting both of us over and over, and what's all this even for?"
He threw the door open and gestured for me to get inside the driver's seat. "Yes Claire, I'm okay with hurting you, actually I'd rather see you cry in front me a million times than having to see you dead before me."
I kept staring at him wordlessly. "At the end of the day, you won't have any regrets?"
"It doesn't matter."
"I matters to me," I echoed his prior words. "Everything about you matters to me, Killua."
"You have to stay away from me," he said concretely.
"What if I don't?" I shot back with no hinderance.
His gaze dropped for a moment before he met my eyes again. "I don't want you in my life."
And that was when the wrath that I had been suppressing in fought its way out. "In that case, what makes you think you have a right to be in mine?"
He jerked his shoulders and I noticed how hard his jaw was. For the first time in the course of knowing him, he was speechless.
"You're the one who doesn't owe explanations and you're the one who has rights over everything, but let me clear this up for you: either you step in or you step out, there's no standing on the borderline, because I'm not a fucking pinata, Killua."
"I'm not doing this," he ended. "I'm not gonna argue with you."
"Why? Because you don't have anything legitimate to say?"
He sighed. "Get in, Claire. Go home." He held the door open for me.
I kept my eyes on him as I obliged and fastened the seat belt around me. "Yeah, just keep side-tracking your way out of life."
He leaned down and peered at me through the open window. "I have a lot of legitimate things to say, Claire; but they wouldn't be fair to you."
"Since when do you care about me as much as to consider what's fair for me or not?"
His face hardened as he took in my words. "You know what Claire?" he whispered glancing at me, his eyes full of dismay. "You really are selfish." With these words, he strode away and I couldn't help but acknowledge how empty I was feeling.
The scent he had left behind in the car seemed to fuse with the dark and wound around my throat like a painful reminder of memories that I was desperately holding on to and the future that seemed to lurk away farther and farther into an undefined horizon.
Ardour slashes through the soul bearing an essence of pain
As from two opposing currents results a hurricane.