“Is it not sufficient for your infernal selfishness, that while you are at peace I shall writhe in the torments of hell?” — Heathcliff Earnshaw.
I could feel tears prick the inside of my eye, creating a terrible rush of burnt down pain sear across my body. A sudden click of the washroom door distracted me, making me look up to my friend who had just exited the bathroom, and I watched him close the door from outside. Once done, his gaze landed on me and he parted his lips to say something, but then he observed his phone clutched in my hands, making the blood drain from his face.
“Toby, I wanted to tell you but —”
“But what?” My own voice sounded foreign to me, my hand skidding the phone across the table after putting it down with a slam. I watched him silently, with him burying his face in the cupped palms of his hands.
“How far you have fallen, Niall. How far…” I trailed off, tinge of anger and disgust slipping in my voice. I held up my hands in the air, mocking respect for him. After all this, Niall? The scariest thing of betrayal was that, it always came from someone close to you, they said. I knew now, how deep the words cut through the skin.
“I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.” He sobbed, while he began sniveling infront of me, even though I wanted none of his tears. I wanted him to stop sniveling like a child who had been refused candy. Forgiveness was the last thing someone could expect from. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice; that never got the chance to happen.
“Stop crying.” The cold, indifferent voice made him peer up to look at me, fresh trails of tears descending down from his eyes to the jaw. I couldn’t care less. Why would I care? That was supposedly the scariest phase of me — the moment when I stopped giving fucks altogether.
“I have nothing to forgive you.” Adding which, I kindled up, walking towards the bed to retrieve a big backpack that was stuffed in underneath it. I felt his presence behind me, peeking to see what I was doing. I made my way to the closet, calmly opening the door, after I unzipped the bag. His footsteps followed me wherever I went like a lost puppy, but that didn’t annoy me anymore like it was used to.
“Then you aren't angry?” The cautious tone of his voice didn't fail to for my brain to gather up the fact that he was afraid. Afraid of what’s coming next. I hummed slightly in my throat, shuffling through the clothing materials which were hung inside. Inspecting the most necessary materials, I started throwing them in the bagpack, stuffing those with my hands, to make room for some more.
“No, I am not angry.”
“I’m so glad you understand, you know. I should've told you earlier, but I couldn’t muster up the courage.” The tension had ebbed away from his voice, his muscles relaxing when I turned to face him, zipping the bag, slinging it over my right shoulder. “Why did you pack those clothes for? You're headed somewhere?”
I shook my head ruefully, giving him a twisted smile, “I'm not angry at you, Niall. I'm just sorry to have lost you.” The words dawned at him like meteors headed towards the Earth, and I saw him widen his eyes, the realization slamming down on him. “No, no, no, Toby, you can't —”
“I can. And I will.” I spat coldly, glowering at him. He knew Alexander. He knew he was using me to throw me on bad terms with Jeremy. He knew he was seducing me to prove that he was better a boyfriend than I. He knew he wanted to separate us so that he could have Niall for his own self. It’s not like I didn’t know that Renault harbored some kind of affection for me but the only reason I discouraged his advances was because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.
“Toby, please hear me out —” He frantically reached out to grab my arm, his voice resembling a wailing woman who was crying for the loss of her son. My eyes halted at his grip on my elbow as I jerked it off with a harsh hitch. The friendship for which I put my dick in line despite Niall's gorgeous looks, as it turned out, meant nothing to him. I kept pestering him to tell me if he knew something about Roulette, to which he always said he didn't.
My menacing gaze fixated itself on him, when I watched him take a hesitating step back, flinching. His legs were trembling, and so was his whole body. And that was why I wanted people not to get on my bad side. I would rather be feared than loved. Love made us weak. Mercy made us weak. Casually shrugging my shoulders, I strode to the main door, bag hanging over my shoulder, as my feet stepped over the threshold. My head was focused forward, but I decided to lean back, turning to my heels to face him once more.
He was bawling his eyes out, sobbing profusely, wiping his tears with his hands. “And, oh, Niall, best of luck with Alexander. I hope you both work your differences out and give your relationship a worthy shot. Have a good day.”