Looking around this living room, one could say that he’s a man of some financial stature, single and yet lonely. The decor is also lacking a woman’s touch— black leather couches with scary high backs, pretty intimidating if you ask me. To put it in a context everybody would understand, if couches were alive, these ones would bully the shit out of the ‘granny’ ones I’ve got back home. The dark hardwood floors are like a big shadow cast from afar; the fire burns very hot but doesn’t provide enough light for me to make out anything else in the room. The darkness within the living room embraces me like a black hole. It should be scary, but it’s in fact, relaxing. The minute I walked in and saw the reigning shadows, I didn’t panic, on the contrary— I saw them as allies. Dwelling in the shadows I feel at ease. There’s not much to see in the shadows, therefore there’s no need for me to hide my feelings.
I’m nervous, the wait is killing me. I hadn’t noticed I was twisting my fingers until I felt a warm sensation. The sound of the rain pairs well with the crackling sound of wood burning, it seems like they’re getting louder and louder. At this point, it’s the only thing I can hear, because his footsteps stopped a while ago. Maybe I can’t recognize his steps as I did before.
“Do you take sugar with your coffee?” His voice echoes through the room and thunders in my ear, making me jump out of place. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought I was being loud enough for you to notice me approaching you. Please, sit down, Cassandra. I’ll keep my hands to myself, just like I promised.”
“That’s not my name anymore…” I interject with a whisper while trying to hide my embarrassment for my reaction. I wrap myself with the towel once more to find some sort of protection. “I’m Sarah now.”
“Oh! Sarah,” he savors it. “Nice name they picked for ya, although I think Cassandra was… exquisite.”
“Exquisite? What is this shit? He’s suddenly a fucking knight? Somebody call the carpenter. We need a round table around here! What an idiot, this one.”Life is not holding anything back.
“Cassandra doesn’t exist anymore.” I look at him straight in the eye. He’s showing traces of… shame? Maybe awkwardness…
“You’re right; she’s gone.”
Silence makes itself present and makes the situation even more unbearable. Nothing comes out of my mouth. At least we can rely on the rain and fire; I’m thankful for that. He pulls an armchair in front of me and sits, resting his right leg over the left, just like he used to do back then. He looks uneasy, maybe because he doesn’t have a clue as to why I’m here, and that makes him anxious.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Sarah. If you’re here to kill me, I’m not gonna fight you.” He lets out as he straightens his back. I can’t help but look surprised. Did he really mean the ‘You’re free to take my life if that will give you peace’ part? He doesn’t even look stressed about it; in fact, he’s disturbingly relaxed, which makes me disturbingly stressed. Is he serious about it?
“Don’t you fear death?”
“No,” he says sharply. “I’ve already done everything I wanted to do in this life. I gave it my worst and best tries. There’s nothing left for me to do. Please, drink up your coffee before it gets cold.” He points at my coffee with his own mug. But I don’t want to drink coffee now, I want to know more.
I take a few sips and say, “What was the worst thing you ever did?”
“Torturing you, of course.” He utters that word like there’s nothing wrong with it. I still can’t even whisper it.
“And the best?”
He sits back holding the mug between both hands, eyes fixed in his coffee. After a while, he lets out a big sigh and answers, “Rescuing you.”
His answer makes my stomach feel weird. What is this feeling? Am I nervous? What is happening?
“You mentioned you’ve killed people. Isn’t it worse than… you know?”
“Torturing?” He finishes my sentence with that painful word.
“Yes, torturing.” I can’t believe I’m saying it, I wasn’t able to do it until now. Did the pain I felt when I heard it right now helped me say it? I feel self-assured right now, powerful even. Could this place be the reason? His presence? Or maybe just the fact that I can kill him without him fighting back?
“Woah, this is worse than an FBI interview. The answer is ‘no,’ by the way. The people I killed were not innocent, and I couldn’t give a shit, even if I wanted to…” He stops, lost for words and looking around to continue with his answer. “…And before you ask, I did give a shit about you, even though I can understand that this small piece of information can be too hard for your brain to digest.” His tone changes, now it sounds like mockery. Is he treating me like an idiot now? I don’t like that at all. I can feel the adrenaline rushing through my body. I could end this quickly, kill him right now and never again feel like a dumb little girl.
“If you gave a shit about me, you could’ve said something about the mission. I would have understood.”
“Not possible. The minute I would have said anything, the whole mission could have become compromised. We were being watched all the time, Sarah.”
“We?”
“What do you mean by that? You and me, of course.” He answers with an angered expression like it’s obvious. This is not what I had in mind when I rehearsed the conversations in my head on the way over.
“You and me, of course… that sounds like a telenovela, right?”Life mocks me once more. Bitch.
We stare at each other, one in front of the other, green versus light blue, rain versus fire. I’m drenched, and he radiates heat. Mixed feelings going back and forth. I can’t shake the feeling I get when I think he can see right through me. Those piercing green eyes make me feel like an open book and I don’t like that. To counter that, I cross my arms. I think I’m going to keep this towel for now.
“Why did you walk in the rain, Sarah?” His face looks puzzled— eyebrows close together and pressed lips to complete the picture. He’s curious.
“I always enjoyed walking in the rain.” That is the absolute truth.
“Oh, I see. I like doing that, too.” He agrees with me, but his tone doesn’t match what he just said. He made it sound… worried, alert. I can see a question being asked through his eyes, and mine answer it. No words are being spoken right now, none of us is using their mouths. “You’re not here to kill me, after all. Are you?” he finally asks with a grin on his face I want to delete. He knows I’m weak, and I hate that. I wish I could take him down, but I’ve already lost this battle.
