She stared down at the floor of the dining room. Wordless. The only light came from the kitchen nearby. Everywhere else in the apartment was dark. She hugged her knees tight, but no tears came. It was all numb within. Just cold. Like the tiled floor. Like her skin. There was a faint smell of blood but it wasn't hers. It came from her boyfriend's knuckles.
The shattered pieces of the ceramic plate was ingrained into her mind, and she wondered.
How couldn't I have seen it coming?
But deep down she knew she saw it. The relationship was broken from the beginning.
Well...
Relationships.
"VICTORIA!"
Her chin snapped up at the unforgiving, sudden sound and she glared at the eyes she once loved and treasured.
"DID YOU EVEN FUCKING LISTEN TO ME?"
She exhaled harshly through flared nostrils. Her hands were shaking yet she chose not to show it to him. She wasn't going to show any sign of weakness at that point. Her eyes were tearing up, but she couldn't let them fall. Not for this asshole. She could have said these words years ago, a decade even, but only now did she ever find the courage to; "You know what? I'm not."
It took her boyfriend a second to recover from that stun, but he quickly regained his wrathful demeanour. Fists clenched, jaw locked, eyebrows knitted as he calculated the girl opposite to him on the other end of the table.
She felt the fire slowly growing in her chest, and she was going to use it. And use it well. "YOU have never listened to me when I keep telling you about anything, or telling you to even give half a SHIT about me. Once I was yours, the trying stopped. The romance was gone all just because you thought, now that you had me, it was time to stop trying because I'm not gonna leave anyway according to your self-centred, inconsiderate lack of wit."
Victoria stood from her foetal position on the floor to say more, but he responded, "Well fuck, Vic. I'm sorry that I can't treat you like a princess. I'm sorry we can't be all 'lovey-dovey' every time. I'm sorry I was busy with work and earning money and all this shit, all because you can't find a fucking job."
"You should know by now how difficult that fucking is, Levi. It's not that easy finding a job when you've ran away from home just before you could graduate. And I only just lost my job three months ago." Victoria grabbed the edge of the dining table to steel herself. She was starting to hyperventilate. But she disguised it as anger. No weakness now, dammit.
He exhaled and held the bridge of his nose. He shook his head. "You're still an idiot."
Victoria slammed her fist on the dining table, but the sleeve of her dressing robe was long enough to have muffled the noise. "For fuck's sake! Will you stop calling me that? That's incredibly degrading, and I don't care anymore if you do it in jest, to show affection, or whatever. Just stop." She let her hand fall back to her side. "It's annoying."
Levi stepped around the side of the dining table opposite to her. His movements were slow, yet hostile. Like a lion ready to pounce on its prey. He walked towards her. "You're the one who won't stop constantly messaging me to ask how I was, what is happening where I am, asking if I'm okay when I don't need a second mother!"
Victoria glanced at his closed fist, the one with the bloodied knuckles. She returned her stare towards his face. "I just messaged you only three times during your whole shift. IT'S CALLED CARING, FUCKHEAD." She stepped away from him and into the hallway, where she could still look at him while the corner of the wall still separated them. Anything to be away from him right now.
"No, it's clinginess. God damn it, Vic!" He smashed the side of his left fist into the framed artwork that they bought for their third anniversary.
Victoria jumped at the sound of the loud crack, she still did even when she expected it to happen. She never got used to any kind of violence in real life, especially when it was happening right in front of her. The frame fell from its hook on the wall, banged, and the cracked glass shattered to tiny pieces all over the floor. She'd be sad to see that painting of doves and daisies to go.
Levi continued, "Will you stop? When I'm working, I'm fine. And I was; I'm fine ten minutes before you ask me, I'm fine while you ask me, and I'm sure as hell I'm fine thirty-fucking-five minutes after you ask me. This has to stop, Victoria. You can't constantly check up on me when I'm a grown twenty-six year old man." Levi took his shirt off, and now he stood in simple shorts. He left the shirt lying on the floor. He sighed. "You know what, I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
That made her crack.
'Tired' is he? Really?
Victoria bit her lip and almost used up all of her willpower just to stop herself from trying to rip her hair from their roots. "Oh, where's the 'fighter' Levi I once knew? What's making you back down from an argument? I thought you were willing to 'go through it all' with me. Well, that's just a simple, huge load of horseshit, especially from you. I am far from done with this conversation."
He had just turned away from her to walk towards their bedroom when he stopped in his tracks. Exasperatedly, he said, "Victoria, don't start."
"Fine. But you know what? I'm tired, too." And with that, Victoria stormed past him, not giving him a second glance as she shoved his shoulder out of her away with hers, and walked straight into their bedroom. "Tired of your shit, tired of our shit, tired of this shit, tired of this shithole."
Levi followed her in, and saw that she had grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the armoire and was in the middle of undressing.
Monotonously, she asked, "Where are my keys?"
"Where are you going?" he asked in the same fashion.
She put on her shirt. "My keys, Levi."
He rubbed his face vigorously, annoyed. "Where the fuck do you think you're off to, Victoria?"
She had already finished zipping up her jeans then started on her boots. "Home."
Levi laughed as he leaned on the door. "Bullshit. What home?"
"One that I actually had. If I still do." Victoria wrapped her hair around in the most haggard bun but she couldn't care less. Bits of her hair fell out and framed her small, round face. "One where you could never follow me to."
"Good." Levi pushed past her and fell face-down on the pillows. "I don't have to go through the effort at all, then. Keys are in the kitchen cupboard, on the hooks behind the door, if you're smart enough to remember. Right where I always put them."
Victoria stomped to the kitchen and made as much noise as she could with the rubber heels of her boots. She gripped the handle and yanked the door open, jingling every key that hung behind it.
She grabbed her car keys, closed the cupboard, and stopped.
She re-opened the door, grabbed her house keys as well, and then left the kitchen.
Victoria stopped and stared at the apartment she and Levi had been sharing for five years.
There was the pristine living room. The couch, a coffee table, and a flat-screen. Untouched by their argument. The balcony was still full of laundry hung up to dry. She had planned to hang plant pots along the wall, but never had the time or money to.
Then there was the kitchen. The dirty dishes on the sink with dinner still stuck on the ceramic. The stove top still had the casserole from lunch earlier that day. Two mugs of coffee sat on the countertop, one full still. Hers. Close to the kitchen was the dining room, where most of the argument happened.
The shattered ceramic plate on the floor, taken from a shelf in the glass cabinet. The wilted roses in the vase. The upturned chair, which was the first victim to Levi's rage before the plate. A faint mark on the wall where Levi had punched it. The picture of two doves nestled in a branch over a field of daisies, cuddling and asleep. The art now lay on the floor, lifeless and meaningless.
Then the pictures in the hallway. Their pictures together. At Victoria's school ball. At Levi's graduation. At Victoria's. Levi's first car. Victoria's second job. Their first holiday together. Their third and fourth. Victoria's car. Victoria in her hometown with relatives. Their apartment. Victoria in her grandparent's garden. Levi and his father.
She couldn't believe all these memories would soon wither and die. Just like the roses tonight.
There was nothing in this house that Levi bothered to add to when it came to decorations. It was barren, with only simple furniture choices, until she was the one who livened it up. It just shows how their personalities blended together. But sadly, didn't mix.
Victoria jumped when she heard a noise and Levi left the room, and he said, "Still here, huh? What, lost the guts to leave or something?"
She glared at his curly brown hair and his weak shoulders and soft, childish face and unfeeling, steely blue eyes. She felt cold. "Just about to."
"Good. Then you won't need this coffee." And with that, he took her still-hot mug and went back to the bedroom without as much as another breath.
Victoria swore she wouldn't cry.
She didn't even grab a bag. She slammed the door shut on her way out. She walked down the corridor and jammed her thumb on the down button. The lift arrived and she had a few seconds of silence to herself, which she used up trying to steady her breathing. The doors opened.
The parking lot was filled with the sounds of the pipes and vents overhead. The sound of her boots echoed off the walls. But she paid no mind to the white noise. She got into her Mazda and shut the door. Only when she got out of the building and when her dashboard started to blink did she remember to put on a seatbelt.
She just drove into the night, hoping he would be home when she gets there.