*runs far, far away screaming*
Chapter Fourteen
He holds a fork apprehensively up to her lips. Smiling, she leans forward to taste the food, and through a mouthful, manages to mumble her approval. It is unspoken amongst them, as they take turns feeding one another, nodding their approval, or in the case of one delicacy he had fed her, wrinkled her nose adorably in distaste. He had almost laughed at how childish she was able to be, so innocent and pure, and wonders how she has managed to remain so in the world they share, of lies, deceit and pain.
It is all he is able to contain when he blurts out in the silence, "I can't wait."
She had eyed him questioningly, almost fearful, had he read her correctly, but her expression softens when he speaks again, "I can't wait until we leave everything behind… Just you and me."
"You and me," She had confirmed smiling, eyes watching closely, as he seems to accept that she is happy and nothing more. She feels nothing more than a quixotic, centrifugal love to him, and she finds herself wondering how blind a man could possibly be. Whether he be selective in what he sees in her, or whether he chooses to not see at all, and willingly had handed over his blind trust, she doesn’t know. But now she wishes he had seen through her stupid façade, stopped her from falling for him, for
both their sakes.
Yet he hadn't.
He had let her fall.
He had let her fall
hard, and the person she was had bore the full brunt of her descent, and had taken it in her stride.
For a brief moment, he leaves her, lips soft on hers as he promises her he would be right back, disappearing into the bathroom. Before she knows it, fingers grip cold metal, and once again, she is Julia Thorne. Too caught in the adrenaline, she knows what she has to do, and does not think to hesitate.
Hesitation will be her downfall, she reminds herself. She holds herself above all other, selfish as she is, and hesitation is what she cannot afford.
It is his suffocation has brought her willingly to her breaking point, to the point of no return. Now, metal cold against her contrasting sweaty palm, she steps forward. A part of her is suppressed, now merely a muffle in protest of what was to be of him, but it is the reminder of what is to be of
her that shouts back, what will
become of her if she endured his love for any longer. She knows what she has to do.
There is no turning back.
~~~
It is quick and easy, as clean as a murder could possibly be.
Yet she finds this as the ultimate test of her loyalty and strength, arm outstretched as she coldly stares into a green that is confusion. The c***ing of her gun as she stood in the bathroom had instinctively turned him in surprise, and a single blow to his abdomen had sent him collapsing back into the bathtub.
She trembles slightly, finger resting on the gun's trigger. Cold blood returns in warmth's wake, her eyes glazed, shielding the pain that is to come. Even in his last moments, she doesn't wish for him to see how vulnerable she is, doesn't want the
world to see her vulnerability. Her pride is at stake, and too stubborn to swallow it, she plays the cold-blooded killer, devious and malevolent in her ways. But one thing she is unable to shield, has never
had to shield was the anguish in ending another life, amongst countless.
She's almost afraid to let go of what they have.
Almost.
Hesitation will be her downfall. She reminds herself incessantly.
A single gunshot is all it takes.
His breathing is laborious as the fear resounds from his eyes, but it is the hurt that hits her the hardest. Glassy and staring up at her, he is questioning, unsure of what to believe as the blood steadily drains from him.
Her eyes leave him for a moment, following a path so rich and dark of red that spirals to the drain, blood in contrast with the stark, meticulous white of the bathtub. She is unable to withhold a sob, and this one leads to the next, sporadic, apologetic sobs; a snake of dominoes.
One last kiss is all she allows herself, her own supple lips catching his, shivering at the feel of his, cold and feverish. Unwillingly, the moment ingrains itself in her memory, leaving her unable to will away the feeling of lifeless lips on hers.
It was only necessary, she tells herself; this was her closure.
With no sense of direction, she flees. It is all she can do to escape the way he is suffocating her with his love, with the emotions that will see to her downfall. It will make her weak, dependant,
human, and it is what she fears most.
Her feet pound heavily, towing with it the weight of the world on her shoulders, as she lets all bear down on her. Always one to be observant, she is anything but the observer as she runs blindly, oblivious, too caught up in chasing the intangible for any way out.
aranoid:
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