The Last Wish

20. You are not leaving me

"Look girl," he said through gritted teeth. "I ain't gonna fall for that look."

Her face fell. "Please."

"No."

She was getting agitated, her heart beats getting abnormal every other second. She scowled at him.

"I can't leave," she said stubbornly.

He looked at her dumbstruck. "This is my bloody house," he said pointing at himself. "So I tell you leave."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"I don't know where to leave," she shouted at him.

"It's not my goddamnn problem woman," he shouted back. "And where the hell are your parents?"

"They're dead."

He stopped short, his face almost showing pity. "Are you an orphan?"

She didn't give a reply instead closed her eyes, letting silence give him an answer. He believed her.

A small smile appeared on her lips, knowing he was falling for it but she wasn't quick enough to conceal it and he saw it.

His face turned from somber to anger, the corners of his lips curling into a snarl. He walked to her and grabbed her by the arm.

"Look, liar," he whispered, with enough malign to freeze her blood, "I'm leaving now and when I come back I don't want to see you or your filth. I'm warning you, you won't like it if not."

With that said, he left slamming the door on her face. She stared at the closed door for a long time, thinking how stupid she was to just reveal herself in that way. For almost second she thought he was giving in but her stupidity intervened and everything went down the drain.

So she planned to leave. Now. Not his house alone.

*

Matt walked down the silent alley, a cigar on his mouth. The cold gushed against his face and he wore the hood over his head to keep the wound warm. As for his breath, the smoke did the work. Yet his mind kept running in circles, wondering of whys and why nots.

She's cunning, he thought. To make someone like him believe a lie, she could win an Oscar for it.

He was the type to easily separate the chaff from the dust with his eyes alone and it made him the predator in his missions. But now to think that he believed a lie, he felt uncomfortable, insecure.

He cursed, puffing out a ring of smoke. The night was drawing in and the cold was unbearable to take in. Strangely, he felt colder than usual. His friends, or better said his so-called friends would call him poikilothermic, his skin was quick to adapt.

He turned a corner and the mini bar came into view, his ultimate destination. It was Matt and Edward's secret barrel, where they could drink the day off without a single care. A huge board hanged on top of it, Xantra written in curly letters and decorated with neon lights. Edward would always joke about how girlish it looked, comparing it to Matt's supposed feminity and Matt would just brush him off.

It annoyed Matt to think of all those times. If they were back to normal, the first person to know about the girl would have been Edward, but things change overtime. Matt learnt that the hard way, long time ago.

The smell of liquor was dense around the bar and as he entered, the smell was even stronger and satisfying. The hundreds of beer bottles at home couldn't account to even one percent of the mere satisfaction he got when he had one shot at the bar.