"Why did you do all this?"
Asher's voice cracked, the sound grating against the silence of the room. He looked at me as if he were staring at a stranger, though he had known the monster under my skin longer than anyone else.
I offered him a cold, empty smile. "I had to. Didn't you know everything already?"
"Yeah, I knew," he whispered, a desperate plea bleeding into his words. "But I thought... I thought you really changed for good this time."
A sharp, breathless laugh escaped my lips. I looked down at him, amused by his eternal naivety. "It was so incredibly dumb of you to believe that, Asher."
The rejection hit him visibly. He dropped to his knees right there on the floor, looking up at me from below. It was exactly where he belonged. He reached out, grabbing my hands with trembling fingers, his eyes welling with pathetic, unshed tears.
"Everything can still be alright," he begged, his voice tight. "You didn't do anything wrong, Lune. Please, just come with me. We can fix all of this, even now. We still have time."
I looked at him, feeling nothing but a profound sense of annoyance. His desperation was suffocating. I rolled my eyes, pulling my hands back just enough to break his grip. "You are utterly delusional," I said, my tone dripping with exhaustion. "Wake up, Asher. Look at reality."
"Even your mom is hospitalized," he countered quickly, trying to find a leverage point to pull me back to his level of sanity. "Come back. At least do it for her."
I turned my back on him, staring out the window. A sigh slipped through my teeth. *Ah, this miserable, tragic woman.* "She always has to pull this kind of drama, doesn't she?" I muttered, not caring if he heard the venom in my voice.
I turned back to face him, expecting him to break, but he just scrambled for another solution. "Okay, fine. If you don't want to go there, we will go somewhere else. We can live alone, just like we planned in the past. Remember?"
I stepped closer to his kneeling form. Slowly, I reached down and gently moved a stray lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. My touch was soft, a stark contrast to the poison in my words. "It's over, Asher. Just stop being so emotional. It really doesn't suit you."
Though, in reality, it is the only thing that actually suits a fragile soul like yours, I thought to myself, enjoying the silent irony.
Before he could answer, Marcos stepped into the room. His eyes darted between us, a flash of possessive jealousy crossing his sharp features. He didn't like Asher being this close to me.
"Go back now," Marcos ordered, his voice tight and demanding as he looked at Asher. "I don't want any scenes here."
Asher stood up slowly, defeated. He began to walk away, his shoulders slumped. Halfway to the exit, he stopped and turned back to look at me one last time, searching for a glimmer of regret. I simply tilted my head, offering him a sweet, mocking wave and a bright smile that didn't reach my eyes.
Once Asher was gone, Marcos turned his attention to me. He handed me a folded pile of clothes, a simple oversized shirt and a pair of dark trousers.
"This is all I could find for you for now," Marcos said, his tone shifting to something more guarded. "You can go freshen up. We will get you new clothes later, when it is actually safe for you."
I took the clothes from him without a word and walked into the bathroom.
The heat of the shower didn't warm me. As the water cascaded over my face, I leaned against the cold tiles and closed my eyes. The moment the darkness took over, the echoes came back.
Take me back to my home... I am scared... This place is so scary...
The frantic, weeping voice cut through my head, followed instantly by the deafening crack of a gunshot.
My eyes snapped open, my heart giving a sharp, violent thud against my ribs. I stood frozen under the running water for a moment, catching my breath, before forcing the memories back into the dark corners of my mind.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I picked up my ruined wedding gown from the floor. I laid it out carefully on the bed, smoothing the fabric, and then stretched out right beside it. I closed my eyes, breathing in the expensive fragrance still lingering on the silk, drowning in the scent of my own chaotic masterpiece.
A soft knock disturbed me. Marcos stood at the door, his eyes widening slightly as he saw me lying next to the gown. The air in the room instantly grew thick with an awkward, heavy tension.
"Oh, you showered already," he said, clearing his throat. "Come down for dinner."
"Okay," I replied simply.
He nodded and left quickly. I gave it a minute, letting the silence settle, before I finally got up and walked down to the dining table.
We ate in silence for a while, the clinking of utensils the only sound between us. Marcos kept his eyes on his plate until he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer.
"Are you going to go see your mom?" he asked quietly.
I paused, setting my fork down, and looked right at him. "What do you think? Would it be fun?"
Marcos stared at me, his expression turning to one of pure disbelief. "What? Are you seriously joking right now?"
I leaned back, a small smirk playing on my lips. "Were you really eavesdropping on our conversation earlier, Marcos?"
He instantly choked on his food, coughing slightly before recovering. His face flushed with minor embarrassment. "No. I was just coming to find you, and I happened to hear it."
I shrugged, not really caring enough to press him further. I changed the subject easily, steering the conversation toward meaningless details about the safehouse until the meal was over and we both retreated to our rooms.
By midnight, the walls of the room felt like they were closing in. I was restless, completely unable to sleep, and the boredom was starting to itch under my skin.
I picked up my phone and dialed Asher. The moment he answered, I didn't give him a chance to speak.
"I wanna go see my mom. Come pick me up on your motorcycle."
I immediately cut the call, not waiting for his objections.
Exactly five minutes later, a text flashed on my screen: I am here.
I slipped out of the house unnoticed and walked out to where his bike was idling in the shadows. I climbed onto the back, gripping his shoulders. "I wanna go home first," I muttered near his ear.
Asher shifted uneasily. "Lune, it is quite dangerous to go there now. What if someone sees us?"
"Come on, it is gonna be fun," I whispered, injecting a playful thrill into my voice. "We will go through the backyard and climb up into my room through the window. I just need a few things."
He let out a defeated sigh. "Okay, whatever you say."
The night air rushed past us as we rode through the dark, deserted streets. When we arrived at the perimeter of the estate, the darkness provided perfect cover. We spotted a lone cop stationed near the side entrance, but he was slumped in his seat, half asleep and completely careless.
Asher killed the engine and looked at me.
"Tell me what you need. I will go get it while you hide somewhere out here."
I rolled my eyes. "You are so stubborn. Fine. I need my black hoodie, my perfume, and my gun. You will find all of them in my wardrobe room."
"Yeah, I know." he whispered.
I watched him slip into the shadows. He managed to scale the trellis near the backyard, moving silently like a shadow, and disappeared through the open window of my old bedroom.
Inside, Asher navigated the dark room, successfully gathering the items from the hidden drawer of my wardrobe. But as he turned to leave, his eyes caught the large painted portrait hanging on the wall. In the dim light, he reached out, his fingers tracing the edge of the canvas. His grip slipped.
The heavy frame shifted, sliding off its hook and crashing to the floor with a loud, resounding thud.
Asher panicked, scrambling out of the window and dropping heavily to the ground below.
The sudden noise startled the sleeping cop awake. The officer sat up, blinking wildly, and began shine his flashlight toward the yard.
Asher hurried back to where I was waiting, his face pale.
"Are you completely dumb?" I hissed, my voice a lethal whisper as he handed me the items.
"I am sorry," he breathed, quickly mounting the bike.
"Who is there?" the cop shouted, his footsteps crunching loudly on the gravel as he hurried toward our position.
Asher kicked the bike into gear, revving the engine as we tore out of the shadows at full speed, leaving the shouting officer far behind in the dust.
When we finally arrived at the hospital, I jumped off the bike and turned on him instantly.
"What the hell was that noise back there?" I yelled, keeping my voice low but furious.
Asher put his head down, looking like a scolded child. "I am sorry. I was just looking at the painting. I didn't mean to drop it."
"Are you incredibly stupid?" I snapped, glaring at him. "When will you stop ruining my plans, ugh."
"I am sorry, Lune," he repeated, his voice barely audible.
I pulled the black hoodie over my head, burying my face in the dark fabric. As I did, I reached down and slipped the heavy metal of my gun into the front pocket of the hoodie. "At least don't ruin things now. We have to sneak in."
Asher blinked at me in shock. "What? Are we seriously sneaking in right now?"
Instead of answering, I kept one hand tightly gripped around the weapon inside my pocket, the cold steel comforting against my palm. With my other hand, I reached out and grabbed his, pulling him along with me. "I really wish you were smarter," I whispered.
We moved through the side clinic entrance, avoiding the main security desk. The corridors were quiet, illuminated only by the harsh fluorescent lights. My fingers remained locked around the trigger guard in my pocket, ready for anything, while my other hand anchored a trembling Asher to my side. To ensure we wouldn't be caught on the security cameras, I led him toward the electrical service closet at the end of the hall. With a quick, decisive pull of the main switch board lever, the entire floor was plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
Before the backup generators could kick in, we hurried down the blacked-out hallway, slipping into my mother's private room unnoticed.
Asher stationed himself by the door, his eyes wide in the dark. "I don't know what you are gonna do, Lune. Just... be safe."
I ignored him, walking slowly toward the bed where the rhythmic ticking of the heart monitor was the only sound. I looked down at the pale, unconscious woman hooked up to the machines.
"I am here, mommy," I said softly, leaning over her. "Your perfect daughter came to see you. Are you happy now?"
There was no response, just the steady, robotic beep of the monitor.
"This is what you wanted, right?" I continued, my voice growing colder. "You always wanted sympathy from people, didn't you? Why are you really like this?"
I reached down, my hands gripping her frail shoulders. I began to shake her, my movements growing rougher, my voice rising just enough to fill the space between us. "Why? Why do you have to be so weak? Why are you even my mother?"
I shook her again, questioning the unresponsive body as if expecting a dead person to suddenly wake up and give me answers. "Why are you so pathetic?"
"Lune, stop!" Asher's voice cut through the dark. He hurried across the room, wrapping his arms around me to pull me away from the bed. He forced me to leave her calmly, his grip tight but comforting as he tried to anchor me.
As he held me, my instinct flared and my hand slid right back into my hoodie pocket, fingers locking onto the handle of the gun once more. But Asher noticed the rigid tension in my arm. Without drawing attention to it, his hands moved gently inside the pocket, his fingers sliding over mine. Slowly, carefully, he pried my grip away from the weapon, leaving it hidden away in the fabric without ever making it visible. He gently guided my empty hand out of the pocket, wrapping my arm up and around his own torso, forcing me to hold him back.
"It is okay, Lune. It is okay, don't do this," he whispered desperately, pulling me into a tight, protective hug. He stroked my hair, his voice trembling with a soft warmth as he tried to comfort me. "There is no use. She can't hear you anyway. Don't waste your energy on this."
I stood rigid in his embrace, my eyes staring blankly over his shoulder at the woman in the bed. My face completely blank in the shadows. There was no anger, no sadness, no spark of life at all, just a terrifying, dead emptiness that made my expression look utterly detached from his warmth.
"Even if she was awake, she wouldn't understand me," I whispered into the dark room, my voice entirely devoid of humanity. "Because she is nothing but a loser."