Chapter 41
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Julius's POV.
I was standing in front of Samantha's door. And I was very incredulously nervous.
Smoke- was what I thought.
So I remembered patting all my pockets and ending up realizing that I didn't have a single cigarette on me. Because I did not buy them for surprisingly so long. More than a week?
I shuddered, exhaled a white puff in the blistering cold air, then straightened up and rang the doorbell once. Then again. And again. But there was no response. No shuffling on the other side of the door. Not a single sign of life.
My heart beat rapidly and I almost lost it before I hastily tried the knob. I definitely didn't expect the door to open, indicating that it was unlocked in the first place. I took in a sharp breath and immediately reached for the back of my pants where my gun would be tucked.
But it wasn't there.
I winced at the thought and cursed under my breath. I stepped in the huge reception anyway and let my eyes scan the whole place. Everything was in place. The immaculate, sun-lit living room, the clean, shiny tiles, the spiralling stairs and the kitchen door at the further end to the side. I re-scanned the place and almost did a double take when I noticed Samantha standing by the glass wall of the living room with her slender fingers curled around a glass of red wine. She wore a short, icy-blue dress, a long, grey cardigan and bunny-like, grey slippers.
She wasn't looking at me. She was looking outside of the glass at the garden. I could take a picture of her. She looked breathtaking.
I glanced around the room again and then noticed a lot of used tissues littered on a couch. Is she sick?- was what I first thought. But before I could take a step toward her she turned to me.
She looked deathly pale, as if her skin were broken, pointless colour pencils and white crayons. She glanced at me, looked down and then smiled faintly. She then gracefully planted the glass of wine on a couch's pillow. It was half-full and tilted precariously. I looked back up to find her staring at me.
Her silence was odd because she was always the 'vocal' one. The one who had thoughts put into coherent, melodic sentences. The expressive one. And not having her talk was like dropping a heavy, blanket of silence atop of our us.
I shifted under her gaze and almost smiled before her eyes fluttered close. She then forced them open to stare more at me. Her lips were chapped and sealed shut. Her blue eyes were glassy and stormy. They were different. She looked at me differently. And that was all it took for my fears to simmer within me.
It's just Samantha- was what I told myself- she's probably having a mental breakdown and needs your help.
"Samantha?" So I dared mutter and she shook her head slowly. So slowly. She then smiled a brittle sort of smile. A smile that was waiting for the push of the right thoughts or words to shatter into nothingness.
"Did you know?" She said carefully, very, very carefully, her eyes wide open. "I-I haven't slept at all last night? And maybe even the night before that?"
My mouth moved around to spell letters, but no sound came out. So I just tilted my head slightly as a response. I didn't what put her in this a miserable condition, but I wanted to know to help her. So I listened. I listened to her woes that bled out from her words.
"I didn't sleep-" She almost whispered as she brought a hand to her mouth. Touched her lips with her fingertips. Dropped her hand back down. "I didn't sleep because-" She ran a hand through her messy hair. "-because I kept thinking," her voice quavered and I looked at her in anticipation. "-I kept thinking and thinking and thinking of a question. One question."
She sniffled and I quickly approached her, not knowing where she was heading with all that. I was just reaching for her arm when she leaned away with a frown.
"Don't." Her voice came raspy but sharp.
I dropped my hand and closed my opened mouth. This wasn't good at all. "What hap-"
"Who are you?" She said closing her eyes as tears tumbled down her eyelashes.
My heart dropped. My mind blanked. My breathing stopped. My fears were confirmed. There was no going back. There was only fear. Only fear as I stared at her. At her vulnerably, blue eyes. Eyes so blue, they made me want to cry.
"That," she continued, turned around and faced the glass wall again. "-that was the question that disturbed my sleep."
I stared at her back. I stared and stared at her grey cardigan as if it'd come up with anything, anything at all. Because I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking at all. In fact, I was calm. I was so calm as I let all my fears rage and storm in the depths of my soul. Because thinking just said bye-bye and left a pile of flesh behind it.
"And now?" She sniffed. "You have nothing to tell me. Or maybe there's so much to tell me. Or maybe it's too late."
I shook my head absentmindedly, trying to come up words, trying to lure thinking back, trying to remember anything, anything. So I remembered a reason. Yes, I remembered, there was a reason why I couldn't tell her. In fact, there were lots of reasons and fears why I couldn't tell her.
"But why?" Her voice was full of pain. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you allow me to choose? How did you allow yourself to break my heart so cruelly? So inhumanely? Are you even human?"
When thinking returned, it was unpleasant. It poisoned my mind with thoughts so vile and scary. They were countless, unrelated, unorganized. A mess I created. A mistake.
She then turned to me, her face red from all the suppressed emotions and -oh, oh- tears. And I thought- oh, now look what you did, the girl's crying now.
"I didn't- I don't deserve this! No one ever does, Caesar!" Her grace, her composure was all gone now.
But I remember. I remember that when she said 'Caesar', my walls came rumbling down. I stood completely vulnerable. I was naked under her torturing gaze. My heart decided to elope with my lungs. And now? I wasn't breathing. I was a corpse with stale, stinky blood.
"You told me so." She continued softly. So so softly and quietly, to the extent that I could hear my own heart muscles tear at each other. "Remember? At the park? You told me I deserved better. You whispered so many things to me."
And I realized I couldn't handle it. That I was going to suffocate. I needed to go away. So I staggered back, away from her. She was torturing me. She was killing me slowly. She was a weakness. And weaknesses needed to be eliminated. But it was too late.
"Are you going to run away from me?" Her voice was a merciless whip slashing through my flesh. "Careful now, I'm starting to understand you. You like running away from trouble. Like right now. Like how you keep running from yourself. Like you ran away from the fact that you-you killed my father!"
I froze. My jaw hit the floor and my mind was set on flames. I was so engrossed by her knowing to the extent that I didn't stop to ask myself how. How did she know?
Her face scrunched up before she stared at me. "Why aren't you smiling, laughing, frowning, crying, glaring, doing anything human, goddammit?!"
I stood still at her words.
"Have you really got no reaction to all this?" She said no longer concealing her anger. Her voice was rough and edgy and her stance threatening. "Oh, forgive me. I'm talking to a man who killed twenty people- well, if not more. Does he have a heart? Of course not. I bet his lungs are all comfy and cosy with all that extra space."
I shook my head slowly at her. She was going too fast for me and I was drowning.
"I loved you." She breathed. "I loved you!" She sounded desperately sad. "And you let me! How selfish?" I then approached her thoughtlessly, but she backed away. "Don't you dare come close to me!" She almost yelled. "You're a murderer. That's what you are! Who you are! And who you'll always be!"
"That's not true." I managed to say, but she didn't hear. Maybe I was imagining saying it.
"You're weak, pathetic and a bloody sociopath!" She continued and I never flinched. But it hurt. It hurt the most to see it come out of her. "What did you think?" She said, regaining her composure. "That I'd never find out? That I'd be wasting my love on the person who carved th-this-this crater in my heart? Just tell me, what did you think?!"
She closed her eyes, clasped her shaky hands and pursed her lips. "And here you are again," she said, limply pointing a hand at me. "-breaking my heart. Again. What other possible ways can someone break someone else's heart so harshly?"
She opened her eyes and my heart quaked. "I'm sorry," I whispered and she raised her eyebrows before laughing hard and humorlessly.
"You're sorry?" She mocked. "I honestly don't know what to tell you. But I'll tell you this-" She turned around as my breath hitched. "-I'll tell you that you should die. Someone should kill you. And make it very painful for you. And I think I found who."
My eyes widened at her words as she turned to me, pointing my own gun at my head. Only then did I remember how it fell on the ground from her hands when I kissed her almost a week ago. I almost cursed my vulnerability when I was with her.
"I'm bad at aiming." She tilted her head. "That's why I'm not going for the heart," she said lowering my gun to coincide with my chest, then raising it back to my head. "-in case you're wondering." She added bitterly.
I remembered closing my eyes and actually preparing to die. I was detaching myself from this world quickly and I didn't care. I wanted to do this for a long time anyway. And in fact, death would be my saviour. That it could lend me this hand I was so desperately looking for in this raging disaster. It wouldn't be as painful as Samantha would've wished.
But the sound of sudden sobbing forced me to open my eyes. Samantha had lowered the gun and had had a hand pressed to her chest with tears spilling from her eyes.
"I can't. I can-can't. I can't. I can't. I can't." She kept repeating to herself and looking down as I watched speechlessly. "I can't, I love him. I can't."
I was about to approach her, but she looked up at me and raised the gun again. She looked scared. She was scared of me. Her eyes were wide and teary. Her shoulders were shaking and so were her hands with the gun. "Leave." She said pleadingly. "Just leave, leave, LEAVE!"
I looked at the fear in her eyes and couldn't look down. I was drawn to it as much as I was repelled by it. I was scaring her.
"No, Samantha," was what I said. Don't be scared of me, is what I wanted to say. I'll never hurt you, is what I never said.
"Please." She sobbed. "You've caused me so much heartache, Caesar. Please."
I looked at her helplessly. "Please, you don't unde-"
"Oh, I do." She said nodding with a grimace. "And you have to leave me!"
But I just couldn't watch her slip right through my fingers. So I approached her determinedly. "Samantha, give me a chance to expl-"
"What are you-Get away from me!" She frantically stumbled back, knocking off the glass of wine that splashed on the pillow and the white carpet beneath us.
I stopped in my tracks and stared at the spilt red wine. I then snapped out of it and continued approaching her faltering figure slowly. Her back hit the glass wall and I shook my head at her petrified face. When I was close enough, I easily took the gun out of her loose grip and tucked it into my pocket. She said nothing, just whimpered and shook her head.
"You're scaring me." She cried and I shook my head as I tucked a few hair strands behind her ear. She closed her eyes and screwed her face.
"Don't be scared," I whispered softly searching her lost, terrified eyes. How could I appear so calm? I was a catastrophe on the inside.
Her lips quivered and tears stained her rosy cheeks and dress. "I will never," I said, brushing her lower lip with my thumb. "I will never hurt you."
"You are hurting me!" She said as more tears came down and wet my thumb. I immediately backed away. "Just leave! In the name of any moment you ever loved me in, just leave me alone! Hate me if you ever loved me! And let me hate you. Please!" She begged, her voice almost gone from all the crying she did.
"But-"
"Just go, Julius. I beg you. Don't make me ever see you again. Just be thankful I couldn't kill you. Just go! Go!" She said with difficulty and I just couldn't stand myself staring at the hopelessness that inhabited the pits of her eyes.
So I turned around and did what I did best.
Run.
---
'"I licked and licked and licked all the blood that covered my fingers as I let out a moan. I dipped back my head and then laughed. I was madness. I loved it. The smell of blood. Its rustic taste.
I let my eyes scan the place surrounding me. I examined the two dead bodies that were sprawled on the floor of our reception in awkward angles. A lady and a man. How fancy.
I was still grinning when my father's booming voice snapped me out of it. I cocked my head back to see him kick the lady's hand next to her body. I then turned to face him completely.
"Wow. Already done?" He said with a smirk. I only smiled back at him.
I was drunk.
"You got blood on your lips, son." He told me, pointing at his own lip as I raised a brow. I licked the blood and then smirked.
"Gone?" I raised both arms as Father shook his head with a smirk.
"You're insane," was what he said.
"And you're proud of me for it." I pointed out and he chuckled.
"And that's why I have a gift for you." He said taking off his white suit's jacket, exposing a crisp, white, button-up shirt and a crimson tie.
"I don't like gifts," I said glancing at the blood pool forming under the lady's head as I fantasized about dipping my fingers in it and licking them lustfully.
"You might like that one." He said with a smirk as he headed for the couch -his couch- that faced me, the show of people I killed and a coffee table.
He then threw at me something that I caught. I opened my hand that enclosed it and smirked. It was a key for a Mustang.
"Latest model." He commented as I stared more at the key.
"Why are you giving your nineteen years old son such an expensive car? I'm not a brat." I said flatly and looked up at him.
"You're not." He said easily. "Besides, you aren't any nineteen-year-old boy. You're...different."
I smirked. "Of course," I muttered. "I kill people and do very bad, grown-up things, right?"
"Certainly." He said with a smile. "Add to that, your ability to almost orgasm at the taste of blood instead of naked girls."
I chuckled at that. "It's not as bad as it sounds."
"It is." My father said sternly. "Killing people has become a pleasure to you."
I looked sharply at him. "I don't kill people for pleasure," I said slowly. "I do that for Gorj. That's what you taught me. For you."
And I was true to my words, I didn't kill people for pleasure. I killed them because I'm 'supposed' to. Because this would make me grow in Father's eyes. I didn't really care about what it took.
Father studied me more. "Maybe. But remember," he warned. "-there's a very thin line."
I smiled at that. "I got all under control."
"I hope so," he said, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yeah, a bit of me hopes so too." I then winked at Father and made my way outside the mansion to find a black Mustang parked in front of me. I grinned and actually walked toward the car and hugged it. I actually threw my body over it. I was on cloud nine.
But then I looked up and found blood on my hands. So so much blood. Blood was pouring out of my hands. I jolted away from the car and looked around me to find the picture of Audrey and myself tore apart with blood gushing out from the rip.
It was impossible. My eyes widened and my breath quickened. '"
And I jolted awake.
My head hit the tub's faucet, making me wince. I looked down at myself. I was fully dressed in a tub full of freezing water. With an empty bottle of Scotch in my right hand, immersed under the water. One leg was hanging outside the tub and the other was bent under the water.
My eyes were barely functional and so were my numb hands. It seemed like I drank a lot. And even though it was freezing and I had an extreme headache, I just stayed in there. I just wanted to sulk. And this dream only made it worse. It was all a part of my memories except for the last part with the blood and the picture. My brain liked to get extra innovative in nightmares.
I was in a state in which I just didn't want to think. I didn't and I couldn't. So I stared at my hands under the water for as long as I could remember. Not thinking at all. Just focusing all my energy to not think.
But I was interrupted by the sound of the slamming of a door, then footsteps against the tiles. And I didn't care. Because I just hoped anyone would just pass by and take me out of my misery. So I continued staring at my hands under the water with my head bowed down.
"Well shit, Julius," was what Augustus's voice drawled as my headache intensified.
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.
"No wonder why the suite's door was wide, wide open. Like I had to shoo two stray cats away- no they were kittens. You know what? I'm not really sure, but maybe they wer-" He started, but then immediately stopped. Then there was a short pause. "Okay," he sighed. "I'm not being funny. What the hell happened to you?"
I watched my fingers twitch and felt like suffocating. I then suddenly felt Augustus's warm hand on my arm. I turned slowly to him. He was kneeling down and frowning slightly. His eyes were a pulsing blue, trying to reach out for my dying greens. I took in a sharp breath, closed my eyes and looked away.
"Julius?" He said softly and I felt chills run down my back. "You're worrying me, Julio. Man, come on, talk t-"
"I want to die." I croaked and looked at Augustus as he shifted and sat on his knees on the wet floor.
"Die?" He looked worried. Scared even. In response, I raised my eyebrows slightly and shrugged. I was exhausted.
"But you won't, right?" He said trying to smile, but constantly failing. His blue eyes dilated and I sighed.
"I don't know," I said, holding my breath. "Maybe I was trying to drown myself yesterday when I was drunk," I said pushing back myself so I could straighten my back. "And I'll maybe- no, probably, try again tomorrow and actually succeed. So go away from me. As far as you can get. As fast as you can so that you'll have enough time to actually forget me."
"Alright, alright, Ju-" His smile was faltering.
"Shh, Gustus," I said carefully staring dreamily in his eyes. "I'm trying not to think and hearing you makes me think about so many things. Please."
I heard him take a deep breath. "You can tell me." He whispered and I shook my head, frowning.
"I told you. I don't want to think, moron." I said closing my eyes and looking to my right at the blank, yellowed wall. And it was true, all I was thinking about was not thinking. Then there was silence interrupted by the dripping of water from my hair into the tub.
"But I can't just forget you." He said and my eyes snapped open. "You know that."
"Then do something about it," I said carelessly as I banged my head with the wall gently. "I've caused en-" I then immediately stopped myself. I wasn't supposed to talk or think about anything.
"You've caused enough damage?" Augustus's voice was irritated. "It doesn't seem like it. You seem ecstatic about damaging me. Cutting me off."
I then turned to him disturbed by what he said. "Damage you? Blyme." I almost chuckled. "You've got almost the whole world by your side. You've got your father. You've everything, everything in the world right in your hands. You've got innocence, purity, everything that is so nonredeemable. How can the death of your pathetic brother be -oh so- devastating? A brother you got to know by mere coincidence." I snapped.
His once worried countenance was now shocked. Mad even. He was frowning slightly and his lips were pressed in a thin line.
"Fuck you, Julius Ceasar," was what he first growled. "Is that what you think of me? Do you really think that you're the shit? You're the one who got it all messed up? That you're the only one who has got shit hit his bloody fan?" He looked at me incredulously and I blinked.
"I don't car-" I started, but Augustus raised a hand to stop me.
"Listen. I'm not here to fight." He squeezed his eyes shut. "You've already lost so many and so much," he said, looking in my eyes. "I wouldn't want some words to make you lose me too. I know you can't afford it. So stop trying to push me away. And about what you said about me," He said, tilting his head with a slight frown. "-we'll talk about that later."
I scoffed, looked away and was surprised when tears formed in my eyes. I tried blinking them away, but it was a torrent of tears. So I pushed myself with my arms until my head was completely under the freezing water. Where I think I cried. After a few moments, I pushed myself up and ran a hand through my wet hair. I looked at Augustus to find him smiling knowingly.
"Is it Samantha?" He dared ask and all yesterday's memories came rushing in. I looked in front of me as tears filled my eyes to the brim. I exhaled loudly and shook my head as I shifted in the tub.
"How did you know?" I muttered trying to distract myself with my ring.
"How did I know?" He repeated with a lopsided smile. "Who else have you got except for me and her? I'm sorry, but you know that's true."
I smiled sadly and shook my head as tears escaped uncontrollably.
"Last I checked, she seemed like a pretty decent person," he said with a smirk. "You know? A keeper. Wifey and hottie and all. What the hell did you do?"
I looked at him and smiled sadly. "You won't believe me."
"Try me." He said with a slight shrug.
My smile dissolved away as I locked his eyes. "I killed her father."
***
A/N: And he dropped the bomb. I'm there for you too Julio ;)
So? Any thoughts?
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Julius's POV.
I was standing in front of Samantha's door. And I was very incredulously nervous.
Smoke- was what I thought.
So I remembered patting all my pockets and ending up realizing that I didn't have a single cigarette on me. Because I did not buy them for surprisingly so long. More than a week?
I shuddered, exhaled a white puff in the blistering cold air, then straightened up and rang the doorbell once. Then again. And again. But there was no response. No shuffling on the other side of the door. Not a single sign of life.
My heart beat rapidly and I almost lost it before I hastily tried the knob. I definitely didn't expect the door to open, indicating that it was unlocked in the first place. I took in a sharp breath and immediately reached for the back of my pants where my gun would be tucked.
But it wasn't there.
I winced at the thought and cursed under my breath. I stepped in the huge reception anyway and let my eyes scan the whole place. Everything was in place. The immaculate, sun-lit living room, the clean, shiny tiles, the spiralling stairs and the kitchen door at the further end to the side. I re-scanned the place and almost did a double take when I noticed Samantha standing by the glass wall of the living room with her slender fingers curled around a glass of red wine. She wore a short, icy-blue dress, a long, grey cardigan and bunny-like, grey slippers.
She wasn't looking at me. She was looking outside of the glass at the garden. I could take a picture of her. She looked breathtaking.
I glanced around the room again and then noticed a lot of used tissues littered on a couch. Is she sick?- was what I first thought. But before I could take a step toward her she turned to me.
She looked deathly pale, as if her skin were broken, pointless colour pencils and white crayons. She glanced at me, looked down and then smiled faintly. She then gracefully planted the glass of wine on a couch's pillow. It was half-full and tilted precariously. I looked back up to find her staring at me.
Her silence was odd because she was always the 'vocal' one. The one who had thoughts put into coherent, melodic sentences. The expressive one. And not having her talk was like dropping a heavy, blanket of silence atop of our us.
I shifted under her gaze and almost smiled before her eyes fluttered close. She then forced them open to stare more at me. Her lips were chapped and sealed shut. Her blue eyes were glassy and stormy. They were different. She looked at me differently. And that was all it took for my fears to simmer within me.
It's just Samantha- was what I told myself- she's probably having a mental breakdown and needs your help.
"Samantha?" So I dared mutter and she shook her head slowly. So slowly. She then smiled a brittle sort of smile. A smile that was waiting for the push of the right thoughts or words to shatter into nothingness.
"Did you know?" She said carefully, very, very carefully, her eyes wide open. "I-I haven't slept at all last night? And maybe even the night before that?"
My mouth moved around to spell letters, but no sound came out. So I just tilted my head slightly as a response. I didn't what put her in this a miserable condition, but I wanted to know to help her. So I listened. I listened to her woes that bled out from her words.
"I didn't sleep-" She almost whispered as she brought a hand to her mouth. Touched her lips with her fingertips. Dropped her hand back down. "I didn't sleep because-" She ran a hand through her messy hair. "-because I kept thinking," her voice quavered and I looked at her in anticipation. "-I kept thinking and thinking and thinking of a question. One question."
She sniffled and I quickly approached her, not knowing where she was heading with all that. I was just reaching for her arm when she leaned away with a frown.
"Don't." Her voice came raspy but sharp.
I dropped my hand and closed my opened mouth. This wasn't good at all. "What hap-"
"Who are you?" She said closing her eyes as tears tumbled down her eyelashes.
My heart dropped. My mind blanked. My breathing stopped. My fears were confirmed. There was no going back. There was only fear. Only fear as I stared at her. At her vulnerably, blue eyes. Eyes so blue, they made me want to cry.
"That," she continued, turned around and faced the glass wall again. "-that was the question that disturbed my sleep."
I stared at her back. I stared and stared at her grey cardigan as if it'd come up with anything, anything at all. Because I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking at all. In fact, I was calm. I was so calm as I let all my fears rage and storm in the depths of my soul. Because thinking just said bye-bye and left a pile of flesh behind it.
"And now?" She sniffed. "You have nothing to tell me. Or maybe there's so much to tell me. Or maybe it's too late."
I shook my head absentmindedly, trying to come up words, trying to lure thinking back, trying to remember anything, anything. So I remembered a reason. Yes, I remembered, there was a reason why I couldn't tell her. In fact, there were lots of reasons and fears why I couldn't tell her.
"But why?" Her voice was full of pain. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you allow me to choose? How did you allow yourself to break my heart so cruelly? So inhumanely? Are you even human?"
When thinking returned, it was unpleasant. It poisoned my mind with thoughts so vile and scary. They were countless, unrelated, unorganized. A mess I created. A mistake.
She then turned to me, her face red from all the suppressed emotions and -oh, oh- tears. And I thought- oh, now look what you did, the girl's crying now.
"I didn't- I don't deserve this! No one ever does, Caesar!" Her grace, her composure was all gone now.
But I remember. I remember that when she said 'Caesar', my walls came rumbling down. I stood completely vulnerable. I was naked under her torturing gaze. My heart decided to elope with my lungs. And now? I wasn't breathing. I was a corpse with stale, stinky blood.
"You told me so." She continued softly. So so softly and quietly, to the extent that I could hear my own heart muscles tear at each other. "Remember? At the park? You told me I deserved better. You whispered so many things to me."
And I realized I couldn't handle it. That I was going to suffocate. I needed to go away. So I staggered back, away from her. She was torturing me. She was killing me slowly. She was a weakness. And weaknesses needed to be eliminated. But it was too late.
"Are you going to run away from me?" Her voice was a merciless whip slashing through my flesh. "Careful now, I'm starting to understand you. You like running away from trouble. Like right now. Like how you keep running from yourself. Like you ran away from the fact that you-you killed my father!"
I froze. My jaw hit the floor and my mind was set on flames. I was so engrossed by her knowing to the extent that I didn't stop to ask myself how. How did she know?
Her face scrunched up before she stared at me. "Why aren't you smiling, laughing, frowning, crying, glaring, doing anything human, goddammit?!"
I stood still at her words.
"Have you really got no reaction to all this?" She said no longer concealing her anger. Her voice was rough and edgy and her stance threatening. "Oh, forgive me. I'm talking to a man who killed twenty people- well, if not more. Does he have a heart? Of course not. I bet his lungs are all comfy and cosy with all that extra space."
I shook my head slowly at her. She was going too fast for me and I was drowning.
"I loved you." She breathed. "I loved you!" She sounded desperately sad. "And you let me! How selfish?" I then approached her thoughtlessly, but she backed away. "Don't you dare come close to me!" She almost yelled. "You're a murderer. That's what you are! Who you are! And who you'll always be!"
"That's not true." I managed to say, but she didn't hear. Maybe I was imagining saying it.
"You're weak, pathetic and a bloody sociopath!" She continued and I never flinched. But it hurt. It hurt the most to see it come out of her. "What did you think?" She said, regaining her composure. "That I'd never find out? That I'd be wasting my love on the person who carved th-this-this crater in my heart? Just tell me, what did you think?!"
She closed her eyes, clasped her shaky hands and pursed her lips. "And here you are again," she said, limply pointing a hand at me. "-breaking my heart. Again. What other possible ways can someone break someone else's heart so harshly?"
She opened her eyes and my heart quaked. "I'm sorry," I whispered and she raised her eyebrows before laughing hard and humorlessly.
"You're sorry?" She mocked. "I honestly don't know what to tell you. But I'll tell you this-" She turned around as my breath hitched. "-I'll tell you that you should die. Someone should kill you. And make it very painful for you. And I think I found who."
My eyes widened at her words as she turned to me, pointing my own gun at my head. Only then did I remember how it fell on the ground from her hands when I kissed her almost a week ago. I almost cursed my vulnerability when I was with her.
"I'm bad at aiming." She tilted her head. "That's why I'm not going for the heart," she said lowering my gun to coincide with my chest, then raising it back to my head. "-in case you're wondering." She added bitterly.
I remembered closing my eyes and actually preparing to die. I was detaching myself from this world quickly and I didn't care. I wanted to do this for a long time anyway. And in fact, death would be my saviour. That it could lend me this hand I was so desperately looking for in this raging disaster. It wouldn't be as painful as Samantha would've wished.
But the sound of sudden sobbing forced me to open my eyes. Samantha had lowered the gun and had had a hand pressed to her chest with tears spilling from her eyes.
"I can't. I can-can't. I can't. I can't. I can't." She kept repeating to herself and looking down as I watched speechlessly. "I can't, I love him. I can't."
I was about to approach her, but she looked up at me and raised the gun again. She looked scared. She was scared of me. Her eyes were wide and teary. Her shoulders were shaking and so were her hands with the gun. "Leave." She said pleadingly. "Just leave, leave, LEAVE!"
I looked at the fear in her eyes and couldn't look down. I was drawn to it as much as I was repelled by it. I was scaring her.
"No, Samantha," was what I said. Don't be scared of me, is what I wanted to say. I'll never hurt you, is what I never said.
"Please." She sobbed. "You've caused me so much heartache, Caesar. Please."
I looked at her helplessly. "Please, you don't unde-"
"Oh, I do." She said nodding with a grimace. "And you have to leave me!"
But I just couldn't watch her slip right through my fingers. So I approached her determinedly. "Samantha, give me a chance to expl-"
"What are you-Get away from me!" She frantically stumbled back, knocking off the glass of wine that splashed on the pillow and the white carpet beneath us.
I stopped in my tracks and stared at the spilt red wine. I then snapped out of it and continued approaching her faltering figure slowly. Her back hit the glass wall and I shook my head at her petrified face. When I was close enough, I easily took the gun out of her loose grip and tucked it into my pocket. She said nothing, just whimpered and shook her head.
"You're scaring me." She cried and I shook my head as I tucked a few hair strands behind her ear. She closed her eyes and screwed her face.
"Don't be scared," I whispered softly searching her lost, terrified eyes. How could I appear so calm? I was a catastrophe on the inside.
Her lips quivered and tears stained her rosy cheeks and dress. "I will never," I said, brushing her lower lip with my thumb. "I will never hurt you."
"You are hurting me!" She said as more tears came down and wet my thumb. I immediately backed away. "Just leave! In the name of any moment you ever loved me in, just leave me alone! Hate me if you ever loved me! And let me hate you. Please!" She begged, her voice almost gone from all the crying she did.
"But-"
"Just go, Julius. I beg you. Don't make me ever see you again. Just be thankful I couldn't kill you. Just go! Go!" She said with difficulty and I just couldn't stand myself staring at the hopelessness that inhabited the pits of her eyes.
So I turned around and did what I did best.
Run.
---
'"I licked and licked and licked all the blood that covered my fingers as I let out a moan. I dipped back my head and then laughed. I was madness. I loved it. The smell of blood. Its rustic taste.
I let my eyes scan the place surrounding me. I examined the two dead bodies that were sprawled on the floor of our reception in awkward angles. A lady and a man. How fancy.
I was still grinning when my father's booming voice snapped me out of it. I cocked my head back to see him kick the lady's hand next to her body. I then turned to face him completely.
"Wow. Already done?" He said with a smirk. I only smiled back at him.
I was drunk.
"You got blood on your lips, son." He told me, pointing at his own lip as I raised a brow. I licked the blood and then smirked.
"Gone?" I raised both arms as Father shook his head with a smirk.
"You're insane," was what he said.
"And you're proud of me for it." I pointed out and he chuckled.
"And that's why I have a gift for you." He said taking off his white suit's jacket, exposing a crisp, white, button-up shirt and a crimson tie.
"I don't like gifts," I said glancing at the blood pool forming under the lady's head as I fantasized about dipping my fingers in it and licking them lustfully.
"You might like that one." He said with a smirk as he headed for the couch -his couch- that faced me, the show of people I killed and a coffee table.
He then threw at me something that I caught. I opened my hand that enclosed it and smirked. It was a key for a Mustang.
"Latest model." He commented as I stared more at the key.
"Why are you giving your nineteen years old son such an expensive car? I'm not a brat." I said flatly and looked up at him.
"You're not." He said easily. "Besides, you aren't any nineteen-year-old boy. You're...different."
I smirked. "Of course," I muttered. "I kill people and do very bad, grown-up things, right?"
"Certainly." He said with a smile. "Add to that, your ability to almost orgasm at the taste of blood instead of naked girls."
I chuckled at that. "It's not as bad as it sounds."
"It is." My father said sternly. "Killing people has become a pleasure to you."
I looked sharply at him. "I don't kill people for pleasure," I said slowly. "I do that for Gorj. That's what you taught me. For you."
And I was true to my words, I didn't kill people for pleasure. I killed them because I'm 'supposed' to. Because this would make me grow in Father's eyes. I didn't really care about what it took.
Father studied me more. "Maybe. But remember," he warned. "-there's a very thin line."
I smiled at that. "I got all under control."
"I hope so," he said, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yeah, a bit of me hopes so too." I then winked at Father and made my way outside the mansion to find a black Mustang parked in front of me. I grinned and actually walked toward the car and hugged it. I actually threw my body over it. I was on cloud nine.
But then I looked up and found blood on my hands. So so much blood. Blood was pouring out of my hands. I jolted away from the car and looked around me to find the picture of Audrey and myself tore apart with blood gushing out from the rip.
It was impossible. My eyes widened and my breath quickened. '"
And I jolted awake.
My head hit the tub's faucet, making me wince. I looked down at myself. I was fully dressed in a tub full of freezing water. With an empty bottle of Scotch in my right hand, immersed under the water. One leg was hanging outside the tub and the other was bent under the water.
My eyes were barely functional and so were my numb hands. It seemed like I drank a lot. And even though it was freezing and I had an extreme headache, I just stayed in there. I just wanted to sulk. And this dream only made it worse. It was all a part of my memories except for the last part with the blood and the picture. My brain liked to get extra innovative in nightmares.
I was in a state in which I just didn't want to think. I didn't and I couldn't. So I stared at my hands under the water for as long as I could remember. Not thinking at all. Just focusing all my energy to not think.
But I was interrupted by the sound of the slamming of a door, then footsteps against the tiles. And I didn't care. Because I just hoped anyone would just pass by and take me out of my misery. So I continued staring at my hands under the water with my head bowed down.
"Well shit, Julius," was what Augustus's voice drawled as my headache intensified.
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.
"No wonder why the suite's door was wide, wide open. Like I had to shoo two stray cats away- no they were kittens. You know what? I'm not really sure, but maybe they wer-" He started, but then immediately stopped. Then there was a short pause. "Okay," he sighed. "I'm not being funny. What the hell happened to you?"
I watched my fingers twitch and felt like suffocating. I then suddenly felt Augustus's warm hand on my arm. I turned slowly to him. He was kneeling down and frowning slightly. His eyes were a pulsing blue, trying to reach out for my dying greens. I took in a sharp breath, closed my eyes and looked away.
"Julius?" He said softly and I felt chills run down my back. "You're worrying me, Julio. Man, come on, talk t-"
"I want to die." I croaked and looked at Augustus as he shifted and sat on his knees on the wet floor.
"Die?" He looked worried. Scared even. In response, I raised my eyebrows slightly and shrugged. I was exhausted.
"But you won't, right?" He said trying to smile, but constantly failing. His blue eyes dilated and I sighed.
"I don't know," I said, holding my breath. "Maybe I was trying to drown myself yesterday when I was drunk," I said pushing back myself so I could straighten my back. "And I'll maybe- no, probably, try again tomorrow and actually succeed. So go away from me. As far as you can get. As fast as you can so that you'll have enough time to actually forget me."
"Alright, alright, Ju-" His smile was faltering.
"Shh, Gustus," I said carefully staring dreamily in his eyes. "I'm trying not to think and hearing you makes me think about so many things. Please."
I heard him take a deep breath. "You can tell me." He whispered and I shook my head, frowning.
"I told you. I don't want to think, moron." I said closing my eyes and looking to my right at the blank, yellowed wall. And it was true, all I was thinking about was not thinking. Then there was silence interrupted by the dripping of water from my hair into the tub.
"But I can't just forget you." He said and my eyes snapped open. "You know that."
"Then do something about it," I said carelessly as I banged my head with the wall gently. "I've caused en-" I then immediately stopped myself. I wasn't supposed to talk or think about anything.
"You've caused enough damage?" Augustus's voice was irritated. "It doesn't seem like it. You seem ecstatic about damaging me. Cutting me off."
I then turned to him disturbed by what he said. "Damage you? Blyme." I almost chuckled. "You've got almost the whole world by your side. You've got your father. You've everything, everything in the world right in your hands. You've got innocence, purity, everything that is so nonredeemable. How can the death of your pathetic brother be -oh so- devastating? A brother you got to know by mere coincidence." I snapped.
His once worried countenance was now shocked. Mad even. He was frowning slightly and his lips were pressed in a thin line.
"Fuck you, Julius Ceasar," was what he first growled. "Is that what you think of me? Do you really think that you're the shit? You're the one who got it all messed up? That you're the only one who has got shit hit his bloody fan?" He looked at me incredulously and I blinked.
"I don't car-" I started, but Augustus raised a hand to stop me.
"Listen. I'm not here to fight." He squeezed his eyes shut. "You've already lost so many and so much," he said, looking in my eyes. "I wouldn't want some words to make you lose me too. I know you can't afford it. So stop trying to push me away. And about what you said about me," He said, tilting his head with a slight frown. "-we'll talk about that later."
I scoffed, looked away and was surprised when tears formed in my eyes. I tried blinking them away, but it was a torrent of tears. So I pushed myself with my arms until my head was completely under the freezing water. Where I think I cried. After a few moments, I pushed myself up and ran a hand through my wet hair. I looked at Augustus to find him smiling knowingly.
"Is it Samantha?" He dared ask and all yesterday's memories came rushing in. I looked in front of me as tears filled my eyes to the brim. I exhaled loudly and shook my head as I shifted in the tub.
"How did you know?" I muttered trying to distract myself with my ring.
"How did I know?" He repeated with a lopsided smile. "Who else have you got except for me and her? I'm sorry, but you know that's true."
I smiled sadly and shook my head as tears escaped uncontrollably.
"Last I checked, she seemed like a pretty decent person," he said with a smirk. "You know? A keeper. Wifey and hottie and all. What the hell did you do?"
I looked at him and smiled sadly. "You won't believe me."
"Try me." He said with a slight shrug.
My smile dissolved away as I locked his eyes. "I killed her father."
***
A/N: And he dropped the bomb. I'm there for you too Julio ;)
So? Any thoughts?
Julius's POV.I was standing in front of Samantha's door. And I was very incredulously nervous.Smoke- was what I thought.So I remembered patting all my pockets and ending up realizing that I didn't have a single cigarette on me. Because I did not buy them for surprisingly so long. More than a week?I shuddered, exhaled a white puff in the blistering cold air, then straightened up and rang the doorbell once. Then again. And again. But there was no response. No shuffling on the other side of the door. Not a single sign of life.My heart beat rapidly and I almost lost it before I hastily tried the knob. I definitely didn't expect the door to open, indicating that it was unlocked in the first place. I took in a sharp breath and immediately reached for the back of my pants where my gun would be tucked.But it wasn't there.I winced at the thought and cursed under my breath. I stepped in the huge reception anyway and let my eyes scan the whole place. Everything was in place. The immaculate, sun-lit living room, the clean, shiny tiles, the spiralling stairs and the kitchen door at the further end to the side. I re-scanned the place and almost did a double take when I noticed Samantha standing by the glass wall of the living room with her slender fingers curled around a glass of red wine. She wore a short, icy-blue dress, a long, grey cardigan and bunny-like, grey slippers.She wasn't looking at me. She was looking outside of the glass at the garden. I could take a picture of her. She looked breathtaking.I glanced around the room again and then noticed a lot of used tissues littered on a couch. Is she sick?- was what I first thought. But before I could take a step toward her she turned to me.She looked deathly pale, as if her skin were broken, pointless colour pencils and white crayons. She glanced at me, looked down and then smiled faintly. She then gracefully planted the glass of wine on a couch's pillow. It was half-full and tilted precariously. I looked back up to find her staring at me.Her silence was odd because she was always the 'vocal' one. The one who had thoughts put into coherent, melodic sentences. The expressive one. And not having her talk was like dropping a heavy, blanket of silence atop of our us.I shifted under her gaze and almost smiled before her eyes fluttered close. She then forced them open to stare more at me. Her lips were chapped and sealed shut. Her blue eyes were glassy and stormy. They were different. She looked at me differently. And that was all it took for my fears to simmer within me.It's just Samantha- was what I told myself- she's probably having a mental breakdown and needs your help."Samantha?" So I dared mutter and she shook her head slowly. So slowly. She then smiled a brittle sort of smile. A smile that was waiting for the push of the right thoughts or words to shatter into nothingness."Did you know?" She said carefully, very, very carefully, her eyes wide open. "I-I haven't slept at all last night? And maybe even the night before that?"My mouth moved around to spell letters, but no sound came out. So I just tilted my head slightly as a response. I didn't what put her in this a miserable condition, but I wanted to know to help her. So I listened. I listened to her woes that bled out from her words."I didn't sleep-" She almost whispered as she brought a hand to her mouth. Touched her lips with her fingertips. Dropped her hand back down. "I didn't sleep because-" She ran a hand through her messy hair. "-because I kept thinking," her voice quavered and I looked at her in anticipation. "-I kept thinking and thinking and thinking of a question. One question."She sniffled and I quickly approached her, not knowing where she was heading with all that. I was just reaching for her arm when she leaned away with a frown."Don't." Her voice came raspy but sharp.I dropped my hand and closed my opened mouth. This wasn't good at all. "What hap-""Who are you?" She said closing her eyes as tears tumbled down her eyelashes.My heart dropped. My mind blanked. My breathing stopped. My fears were confirmed. There was no going back. There was only fear. Only fear as I stared at her. At her vulnerably, blue eyes. Eyes so blue, they made me want to cry."That," she continued, turned around and faced the glass wall again. "-that was the question that disturbed my sleep."I stared at her back. I stared and stared at her grey cardigan as if it'd come up with anything, anything at all. Because I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking at all. In fact, I was calm. I was so calm as I let all my fears rage and storm in the depths of my soul. Because thinking just said bye-bye and left a pile of flesh behind it."And now?" She sniffed. "You have nothing to tell me. Or maybe there's so much to tell me. Or maybe it's too late."I shook my head absentmindedly, trying to come up words, trying to lure thinking back, trying to remember anything, anything. So I remembered a reason. Yes, I remembered, there was a reason why I couldn't tell her. In fact, there were lots of reasons and fears why I couldn't tell her."But why?" Her voice was full of pain. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you allow me to choose? How did you allow yourself to break my heart so cruelly? So inhumanely? Are you even human?"When thinking returned, it was unpleasant. It poisoned my mind with thoughts so vile and scary. They were countless, unrelated, unorganized. A mess I created. A mistake.She then turned to me, her face red from all the suppressed emotions and -oh, oh- tears. And I thought- oh, now look what you did, the girl's crying now."I didn't- I don't deserve this! No one ever does, Caesar!" Her grace, her composure was all gone now.But I remember. I remember that when she said 'Caesar', my walls came rumbling down. I stood completely vulnerable. I was naked under her torturing gaze. My heart decided to elope with my lungs. And now? I wasn't breathing. I was a corpse with stale, stinky blood."You told me so." She continued softly. So so softly and quietly, to the extent that I could hear my own heart muscles tear at each other. "Remember? At the park? You told me I deserved better. You whispered so many things to me."And I realized I couldn't handle it. That I was going to suffocate. I needed to go away. So I staggered back, away from her. She was torturing me. She was killing me slowly. She was a weakness. And weaknesses needed to be eliminated. But it was too late."Are you going to run away from me?" Her voice was a merciless whip slashing through my flesh. "Careful now, I'm starting to understand you. You like running away from trouble. Like right now. Like how you keep running from yourself. Like you ran away from the fact that you-you killed my father!"I froze. My jaw hit the floor and my mind was set on flames. I was so engrossed by her knowing to the extent that I didn't stop to ask myself how. How did she know?Her face scrunched up before she stared at me. "Why aren't you smiling, laughing, frowning, crying, glaring, doing anything human, goddammit?!"I stood still at her words."Have you really got no reaction to all this?" She said no longer concealing her anger. Her voice was rough and edgy and her stance threatening. "Oh, forgive me. I'm talking to a man who killed twenty people- well, if not more. Does he have a heart? Of course not. I bet his lungs are all comfy and cosy with all that extra space."I shook my head slowly at her. She was going too fast for me and I was drowning."I loved you." She breathed. "I loved you!" She sounded desperately sad. "And you let me! How selfish?" I then approached her thoughtlessly, but she backed away. "Don't you dare come close to me!" She almost yelled. "You're a murderer. That's what you are! Who you are! And who you'll always be!""That's not true." I managed to say, but she didn't hear. Maybe I was imagining saying it."You're weak, pathetic and a bloody sociopath!" She continued and I never flinched. But it hurt. It hurt the most to see it come out of her. "What did you think?" She said, regaining her composure. "That I'd never find out? That I'd be wasting my love on the person who carved th-this-this crater in my heart? Just tell me, what did you think?!"She closed her eyes, clasped her shaky hands and pursed her lips. "And here you are again," she said, limply pointing a hand at me. "-breaking my heart. Again. What other possible ways can someone break someone else's heart so harshly?"She opened her eyes and my heart quaked. "I'm sorry," I whispered and she raised her eyebrows before laughing hard and humorlessly."You're sorry?" She mocked. "I honestly don't know what to tell you. But I'll tell you this-" She turned around as my breath hitched. "-I'll tell you that you should die. Someone should kill you. And make it very painful for you. And I think I found who."My eyes widened at her words as she turned to me, pointing my own gun at my head. Only then did I remember how it fell on the ground from her hands when I kissed her almost a week ago. I almost cursed my vulnerability when I was with her."I'm bad at aiming." She tilted her head. "That's why I'm not going for the heart," she said lowering my gun to coincide with my chest, then raising it back to my head. "-in case you're wondering." She added bitterly.I remembered closing my eyes and actually preparing to die. I was detaching myself from this world quickly and I didn't care. I wanted to do this for a long time anyway. And in fact, death would be my saviour. That it could lend me this hand I was so desperately looking for in this raging disaster. It wouldn't be as painful as Samantha would've wished.But the sound of sudden sobbing forced me to open my eyes. Samantha had lowered the gun and had had a hand pressed to her chest with tears spilling from her eyes."I can't. I can-can't. I can't. I can't. I can't." She kept repeating to herself and looking down as I watched speechlessly. "I can't, I love him. I can't."I was about to approach her, but she looked up at me and raised the gun again. She looked scared. She was scared of me. Her eyes were wide and teary. Her shoulders were shaking and so were her hands with the gun. "Leave." She said pleadingly. "Just leave, leave, LEAVE!"I looked at the fear in her eyes and couldn't look down. I was drawn to it as much as I was repelled by it. I was scaring her."No, Samantha," was what I said. Don't be scared of me, is what I wanted to say. I'll never hurt you, is what I never said."Please." She sobbed. "You've caused me so much heartache, Caesar. Please."I looked at her helplessly. "Please, you don't unde-""Oh, I do." She said nodding with a grimace. "And you have to leave me!"But I just couldn't watch her slip right through my fingers. So I approached her determinedly. "Samantha, give me a chance to expl-""What are you-Get away from me!" She frantically stumbled back, knocking off the glass of wine that splashed on the pillow and the white carpet beneath us.I stopped in my tracks and stared at the spilt red wine. I then snapped out of it and continued approaching her faltering figure slowly. Her back hit the glass wall and I shook my head at her petrified face. When I was close enough, I easily took the gun out of her loose grip and tucked it into my pocket. She said nothing, just whimpered and shook her head."You're scaring me." She cried and I shook my head as I tucked a few hair strands behind her ear. She closed her eyes and screwed her face."Don't be scared," I whispered softly searching her lost, terrified eyes. How could I appear so calm? I was a catastrophe on the inside.Her lips quivered and tears stained her rosy cheeks and dress. "I will never," I said, brushing her lower lip with my thumb. "I will never hurt you.""You are hurting me!" She said as more tears came down and wet my thumb. I immediately backed away. "Just leave! In the name of any moment you ever loved me in, just leave me alone! Hate me if you ever loved me! And let me hate you. Please!" She begged, her voice almost gone from all the crying she did."But-""Just go, Julius. I beg you. Don't make me ever see you again. Just be thankful I couldn't kill you. Just go! Go!" She said with difficulty and I just couldn't stand myself staring at the hopelessness that inhabited the pits of her eyes.So I turned around and did what I did best.Run.---'"I licked and licked and licked all the blood that covered my fingers as I let out a moan. I dipped back my head and then laughed. I was madness. I loved it. The smell of blood. Its rustic taste.I let my eyes scan the place surrounding me. I examined the two dead bodies that were sprawled on the floor of our reception in awkward angles. A lady and a man. How fancy.I was still grinning when my father's booming voice snapped me out of it. I cocked my head back to see him kick the lady's hand next to her body. I then turned to face him completely."Wow. Already done?" He said with a smirk. I only smiled back at him.I was drunk."You got blood on your lips, son." He told me, pointing at his own lip as I raised a brow. I licked the blood and then smirked."Gone?" I raised both arms as Father shook his head with a smirk."You're insane," was what he said."And you're proud of me for it." I pointed out and he chuckled."And that's why I have a gift for you." He said taking off his white suit's jacket, exposing a crisp, white, button-up shirt and a crimson tie."I don't like gifts," I said glancing at the blood pool forming under the lady's head as I fantasized about dipping my fingers in it and licking them lustfully."You might like that one." He said with a smirk as he headed for the couch -his couch- that faced me, the show of people I killed and a coffee table.He then threw at me something that I caught. I opened my hand that enclosed it and smirked. It was a key for a Mustang."Latest model." He commented as I stared more at the key."Why are you giving your nineteen years old son such an expensive car? I'm not a brat." I said flatly and looked up at him."You're not." He said easily. "Besides, you aren't any nineteen-year-old boy. You're...different."I smirked. "Of course," I muttered. "I kill people and do very bad, grown-up things, right?""Certainly." He said with a smile. "Add to that, your ability to almost orgasm at the taste of blood instead of naked girls."I chuckled at that. "It's not as bad as it sounds.""It is." My father said sternly. "Killing people has become a pleasure to you."I looked sharply at him. "I don't kill people for pleasure," I said slowly. "I do that for Gorj. That's what you taught me. For you."And I was true to my words, I didn't kill people for pleasure. I killed them because I'm 'supposed' to. Because this would make me grow in Father's eyes. I didn't really care about what it took.Father studied me more. "Maybe. But remember," he warned. "-there's a very thin line."I smiled at that. "I got all under control.""I hope so," he said, cocking an eyebrow."Yeah, a bit of me hopes so too." I then winked at Father and made my way outside the mansion to find a black Mustang parked in front of me. I grinned and actually walked toward the car and hugged it. I actually threw my body over it. I was on cloud nine.But then I looked up and found blood on my hands. So so much blood. Blood was pouring out of my hands. I jolted away from the car and looked around me to find the picture of Audrey and myself tore apart with blood gushing out from the rip.It was impossible. My eyes widened and my breath quickened. '"And I jolted awake.My head hit the tub's faucet, making me wince. I looked down at myself. I was fully dressed in a tub full of freezing water. With an empty bottle of Scotch in my right hand, immersed under the water. One leg was hanging outside the tub and the other was bent under the water.My eyes were barely functional and so were my numb hands. It seemed like I drank a lot. And even though it was freezing and I had an extreme headache, I just stayed in there. I just wanted to sulk. And this dream only made it worse. It was all a part of my memories except for the last part with the blood and the picture. My brain liked to get extra innovative in nightmares.I was in a state in which I just didn't want to think. I didn't and I couldn't. So I stared at my hands under the water for as long as I could remember. Not thinking at all. Just focusing all my energy to not think.But I was interrupted by the sound of the slamming of a door, then footsteps against the tiles. And I didn't care. Because I just hoped anyone would just pass by and take me out of my misery. So I continued staring at my hands under the water with my head bowed down."Well shit, Julius," was what Augustus's voice drawled as my headache intensified.I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath."No wonder why the suite's door was wide, wide open. Like I had to shoo two stray cats away- no they were kittens. You know what? I'm not really sure, but maybe they wer-" He started, but then immediately stopped. Then there was a short pause. "Okay," he sighed. "I'm not being funny. What the hell happened to you?"I watched my fingers twitch and felt like suffocating. I then suddenly felt Augustus's warm hand on my arm. I turned slowly to him. He was kneeling down and frowning slightly. His eyes were a pulsing blue, trying to reach out for my dying greens. I took in a sharp breath, closed my eyes and looked away."Julius?" He said softly and I felt chills run down my back. "You're worrying me, Julio. Man, come on, talk t-""I want to die." I croaked and looked at Augustus as he shifted and sat on his knees on the wet floor."Die?" He looked worried. Scared even. In response, I raised my eyebrows slightly and shrugged. I was exhausted."But you won't, right?" He said trying to smile, but constantly failing. His blue eyes dilated and I sighed."I don't know," I said, holding my breath. "Maybe I was trying to drown myself yesterday when I was drunk," I said pushing back myself so I could straighten my back. "And I'll maybe- no, probably, try again tomorrow and actually succeed. So go away from me. As far as you can get. As fast as you can so that you'll have enough time to actually forget me.""Alright, alright, Ju-" His smile was faltering."Shh, Gustus," I said carefully staring dreamily in his eyes. "I'm trying not to think and hearing you makes me think about so many things. Please."I heard him take a deep breath. "You can tell me." He whispered and I shook my head, frowning."I told you. I don't want to think, moron." I said closing my eyes and looking to my right at the blank, yellowed wall. And it was true, all I was thinking about was not thinking. Then there was silence interrupted by the dripping of water from my hair into the tub."But I can't just forget you." He said and my eyes snapped open. "You know that.""Then do something about it," I said carelessly as I banged my head with the wall gently. "I've caused en-" I then immediately stopped myself. I wasn't supposed to talk or think about anything."You've caused enough damage?" Augustus's voice was irritated. "It doesn't seem like it. You seem ecstatic about damaging me. Cutting me off."I then turned to him disturbed by what he said. "Damage you? Blyme." I almost chuckled. "You've got almost the whole world by your side. You've got your father. You've everything, everything in the world right in your hands. You've got innocence, purity, everything that is so nonredeemable. How can the death of your pathetic brother be -oh so- devastating? A brother you got to know by mere coincidence." I snapped.His once worried countenance was now shocked. Mad even. He was frowning slightly and his lips were pressed in a thin line."Fuck you, Julius Ceasar," was what he first growled. "Is that what you think of me? Do you really think that you're the shit? You're the one who got it all messed up? That you're the only one who has got shit hit his bloody fan?" He looked at me incredulously and I blinked."I don't car-" I started, but Augustus raised a hand to stop me."Listen. I'm not here to fight." He squeezed his eyes shut. "You've already lost so many and so much," he said, looking in my eyes. "I wouldn't want some words to make you lose me too. I know you can't afford it. So stop trying to push me away. And about what you said about me," He said, tilting his head with a slight frown. "-we'll talk about that later."I scoffed, looked away and was surprised when tears formed in my eyes. I tried blinking them away, but it was a torrent of tears. So I pushed myself with my arms until my head was completely under the freezing water. Where I think I cried. After a few moments, I pushed myself up and ran a hand through my wet hair. I looked at Augustus to find him smiling knowingly."Is it Samantha?" He dared ask and all yesterday's memories came rushing in. I looked in front of me as tears filled my eyes to the brim. I exhaled loudly and shook my head as I shifted in the tub."How did you know?" I muttered trying to distract myself with my ring."How did I know?" He repeated with a lopsided smile. "Who else have you got except for me and her? I'm sorry, but you know that's true."I smiled sadly and shook my head as tears escaped uncontrollably."Last I checked, she seemed like a pretty decent person," he said with a smirk. "You know? A keeper. Wifey and hottie and all. What the hell did you do?"I looked at him and smiled sadly. "You won't believe me.""Try me." He said with a slight shrug.My smile dissolved away as I locked his eyes. "I killed her father."***A/N: And he dropped the bomb. I'm there for you too Julio ;So? Any thoughts?
