War.
They call me that for a reason.
Wars start for a trivial cause, but they have sinister undertones. Wars are made to destroy.
Wars are the reason for death, not the other way around.
Death goes down. War remains.
My mind is bleached white as I land on Ronan, straddling his stomach. I clutch him by the collar and drive my fist straight to his face.
He had the audacity to hug her, push her against the bench, and touch her as if he has every right to.
Thereâs that inner voice, telling me not to show my cards this clearly, but that voice is turning dimmer by the days.
I couldnât stop this need to wreak havoc if I tried.
Itâs been a long fucking time without a war, and wars need to happen to purge people.
Wars need to happen to Death, and now, he needs to fucking bleed.
He smirks up at me as I crush my fist into his face, but he doesnât try to fight me off, not that he can when Iâm on such an adrenaline high.
A voice calls from my right, startled and soft. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I recognise itâs her, but I donât focus on it. I donât stop to see her or hear the same voice she used to giggle at him.
My next punch is stronger than the previous one, and Ronanâs head to lolls to the side.
âSomeone is losing it.â Ronan licks the corner of his bloodied mouth. âGot a problem, ?â
I punch him again, causing his words to stop where they started.
Doesnât matter that I spent most of the night and morning fighting with thugs or that a few bruises in my body hurt like a fucker. Iâm going to finish this day with an epic finale â like this bastardâs death.
âStop it!â A slender hand wraps around my bicep, forcing me back with a shove.
Itâs not that strong, but her touch is.
The feel of her fingers on my skin, separated only by my shirt, is like water dousing my fire.
The blurry lines from earlier and the black haze slowly dissipate when her face comes into view.
Sheâs staring at me with those huge green eyes that have never left my head, not since yesterday, not since a century ago.
Her lips part in stupefaction â or worry, I donât know which. All I can think about is how I feasted on those lips, how they felt beneath my teeth and against my tongue.
How I tasted her, like I secretly fantasised for years, and how that single taste has opened Pandoraâs fucking box, unleashed the devilâs minions, and even the jinn that Ahmed used to tell me stories about.
Because now, Iâm hit by the need to taste her again, and this time, I donât want to stop â or finish.
I want to free fall to hell.
Fuck me.
I went to fight so I could purge these thoughts, but they just keep magnifying. Her view isnât helping either. Itâs like a storm, and Iâm only destined to fall, to sin, to bloody perish.
âWhat the hell are you doing?â she shrieks, staring at the blood oozing from Ronanâs lips. âAre you crazy?â
Yup. Totally am. Otherwise, none of this wouldâve happened.
I can tell myself that all day, but making my brain believe it is a different story altogether.
That thing is starting to hate me for the amount of rubbish I pour in it on a daily basis.
Kimberly pushes me away with ease â actually, no. All she has to do is use her hold on my arm and Iâm out of the way as if I was never there.
, I tell myself. One single touch.
I rise to my feet, guided by her hands around my biceps. Her hands are on me.
Hands. On. Me.
Fuck, why does that feel so good? And surreal.
And fucking wrong.
She releases me just as fast. The lack of contact is like being thirsty and given water so it can be taken away at the last second. Her attention falls on Ronan and she helps him up.
The beast inside me roars back to life as he grins down on her with an expression so pure, it stabs me a hundred times all at once.
I lunge at him again, and he smiles defiantly, not even attempting to cover his face. Kimberly moves in front of him, making me stop in my tracks.
Her stance widens and she tips her chin as she glares up at me. âI donât know what the hell is wrong with you, but stop being a morbid dog or Iâll call the principal.â
Morbid dog.
Thatâs the word. A . Iâve been reduced to less than a dog because of her. At least a dog has principles, loyalty. I donât.
The worst part is, I have no way to stop it.
As I glare at Ronan, I pretend she doesnât exist and tell her, âThis is none of your business. Get out of the way.â
âWell, Iâm making it my business. You donât get to hurt Ro on my watch.â
Ro.
Fucking Ro.
If sheâs calling him that on purpose to worsen my insanity case, then itâs fucking working.
Someone book the psychiatrist ward. And the ambulance because if Iâm going to be locked up for being crazy, might as well kill this fucker.
âYes, Kimmy. Protect me from this crazy twat.â Ronan pouts as he holds her hand in his and strokes the back. Since heâs behind her, I can see all the fakery in that expression, the taunting behind his eyes, and then he just smirks at me.
He fucking , motioning at her hand in his.
Thatâs it. Heâs dead. In his sleep, in his car, in his pool. Doesnât matter, itâs going to happen.
I laugh, the sound humourless and harsh as I address her, âYou think you can stop me? Know your fucking place.â
âYou know place. You canât just push people around and punch them simply because you want to or you can. The world doesnât revolve around you.â
Nope. No. I didnât think that.
That thought needs to be fucking eradicated.
At this rate, either she needs to disappear or I do. Otherwise, itâll be fucking chaos from now on.
âWatch. Me.â I advance forward, but she doesnât move or shrink back. Thereâs a slight tremble in her chin, which means she is scared, but she doesnât let it take its toll on her.
Kimberly still stands in front of the fucker Ronan, unmoving, as if his safety is her purpose in life.
His safety.
I come to a halt a few steps away from them, watching the scene with whatever clarity I have after all the alcohol and weed I consumed like a hippie. My head hurts, and my face burns, but the worst pain comes from the thing beating out of synch in my chest.
They were laughing and having fun earlier. Sheâs protecting him now.
And he stopped sleeping around.
The reality hits me like a punch to the nose. Iâve never seen her so happy with someone other than Kir until Ronan.
Iâve never seen him go out of his way for a girl until Kimberly.
âNow, if youâll excuse us, Kimmy and I have to talk about our date.â Ronanâs voice is clear, not mocking, just stating facts.
Theyâre going on a fucking date.
I stare at her, waiting for her denial. Kimberly doesnât go on dates. Kirian is her entire life and she doesnât like to be distracted from him. Besides, she doesnât have the confidence to. I know because I watch her more than I do myself.
She canât go on a date with Ronan of all people. It just canât happen.
I smile at them, but Iâm sure it appears like some lunaticâs rather than mine. âNice try.â
âWho says itâs a try?â Ronan smiles back.
âRonan,â I growl.
âXander,â he coos.
I glare at him, communicating all he needs to know.
Apparently, that fate doesnât scare him since he speaks in a dramatic tone. âBy all means, if you have any objection, say it now or forever hold your peace.â
Kimberlyâs gaze strays my way. Itâs so hopeful, I want to fucking gut myself and step on the remains.
Why does she have to look at me that way?
Didnât I tell her to stop fucking tempting me? To stop hoping for things from me?
The more she does, the harder Iâll destroy her.
âI do.â I glare at her as I tell him, âSheâs a mess you donât want in your life.â
Her face falls as if Iâve kicked her in the stomach, stepped on it, then did the same to a puppy.
This is the only way to keep her away.
Believe me, this pain is nothing compared to the other.
âLet me worry about that. I love messes.â Ronanâs grin is permanently irritating and wishing for my fist to erase it. He tugs on her hand. âKimmy, anything you want to say to Xander while weâre in this holy gathering?â
Sheâs looking at Ronan as she speaks in a calm tone. âI canât talk to someone whoâs nothing. He doesnât even exist anymore.â
Nothing.
Doesnât exist anymore I pretend her words donât slice me open and leave a bottomless hole thatâs feeding on my life essence.
My smile turns threatening. âYou owe me, Berly. Remember?â
She finally faces me, expression stern, determined. Closed off. âI owe you nothing. Iâm done begging for a forgiveness youâll never grant. Iâm done with you and your games and your cold shoulder. I. Am. Done.â
And with that, she pulls on Ronanâs hand and brushes past me without a glance.
Without a look behind her.
I can clutch her by the wrist and pull her back. I can bring her to my side and let the world know sheâll always belong there.
But I donât have the right to.
That knowledge slices me open more than her words. It deepens the hole, making it unrecognisable. Almost as if itâs from another universe.
âSay it,â Ronan whispers so only I can hear him as he follows her. âOne word.â
.
Thatâs the word heâs waiting to hear, and I know heâll let go. Or I can make him with a few more punches.
My face hardens as I watch him take her from between my fingers. I stand there like a bloody fool, unable to do the one thing I ever wanted in my life.
Sometimes, what you want is the one thing you canât get.
The one thing that will be taken away from you.
Ronan shakes his head and goes with her.
I watch their backs disappearing into the school building, and it feels as if my entire life has gone with them.
My phone vibrates with a text.
You had your chance and you lost it.
Iâll send pictures.
I throw the phone against a tree, making it crack. The only words that keep running in my head is her voice, her words, her resignation.