Halloween 3

Elena.

I slammed my fist into the dark wooden door, over and over again, hard. Pain radiates to my knuckles, but I don't care. The sound of my small shouts was drowned out by the party music that still echoed from my house.

Finally, the door opens slowly. A stony face popped out from behind it, looking far too calm for the situation. He leaned against the door frame, a mockingly amused expression gracing his face. “Any problems?” he asked, his tone sounding indifferent.

I could have killed him and crushed his arrogant face with my fist, but I held back. Instead, I put my hands on my hips, glaring at him with a daring gaze.

Killian eyed my stance, then his eyes nonchalantly roamed over me, from head to toe. His eyebrows lifted, making me realize what he was looking at.

My face instantly turns red. I had completely forgotten that I was still wearing the cat costume. The furry ears were still attached to my head, and my face was done up with a little pink nose and gray stripes that made me look like a cute kitten. This costume was Jane's idea, of course, and I was too lazy to refuse at the time.

Ironic, really. Here I am, trying to look all fierce and feisty, but instead, I'm dressed up like a cat. Killian, on the other hand, happens to be the big bad wolf with his all in black outfit and domineering ways.

Well, cheers to you, Killian. If this were a fairy tale world, you'd win. But if I were a wild cat, I would bite the electrical wires in your house and burn everything down.

Realizing that he was still staring at me with that extremely irritating hint of a smirk, I hardened my facial expression, getting my focus back. “What are you going to do?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

Killian tilted his head slightly, his piercing eyes looking at me curiously. It feels like I'm being sliced by a sharp knife— it's unsettling and sends chills down my spine.

“What do you mean?” he asked in a flat tone, then took a step towards me. He shut the door of his house slowly, forcing me to take half a step back until my heels touched the stairs. I pointed at my brightly lit house across the street.

“There!” I croaked, my voice strained. “What are you going to do with it?”

Killian flicked a glance at my house, narrowing his eyes as if judging the situation. He let out a long breath, his shoulders loosening slightly.

“I haven't decided yet,” he replied slowly, in an overly leisurely tone. He wiped his face with his hand, then took off his glasses. His lips curved again, this time with a playful smile that almost made me seethe. “Though you practically begged for something to be done.”

I clenched my fists, holding back the urge to smack him. “I'm not begging,” I snorted, trying to sound calm, though my face was starting to heat up again. I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him defiantly.

It was as if he had a step by step guide on how to piss me off. Still, Killian had gone through almost all the steps, with frightening precision. We were nearing the stage of total destruction, but for now, he seemed to have chosen the final step: “Do whatever it takes to piss her off.” And it works. Really well, too bad.

“So, why are you here?” he asked again, his voice calm but stony.

At this point, I stood there, feeling like an actress who forgot her lines in the middle of the stage. I had no idea what to do next. What was my purpose exactly? I didn't think that far ahead. I just knew I wanted to fight-wanted to end this endless round.

Because that's what our relationship was. A twist.

The bickering. The tears. Fake apologies. Lies. And excuses that only served to delay what should have been inevitable. The answers I needed almost never appeared, leaving only pain and emotional exhaustion.

Some days, Killian seemed to crush my heart with his own hands, tearing it apart mercilessly. But other times, he gave me fleeting moments that made me want to hold him tightly as if by doing so I could patch up all those wounds. Yet, more often than not, I just wanted to beat him to the punch.

“You're making me miserable,” I muttered in the end. My voice was faint, almost drowned out in the cold night air. I wiped my face quickly, trying to chase away the tears that had started to well up. No more crying. Not in front of him.

“You're so heartless,” I whispered, this time in a sharper tone. My eyes met his, and his slight smirk faded. For the first time tonight, he looked bewildered— as if he really didn't get what I had just said.

But I could see more than that in his eyes. Behind the bewilderment, there was sadness. Regret. An understanding that came too late.

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to straighten my back and regain the strength I felt had long been lost.

“I'll forget you,” I muttered to myself, though the sound felt like a rumble in my own ears.

“I will transfer my classes and get away from you. And I will never think of you again.”

Those words felt like a knife I was using to slice myself, but I paid them no mind. Killian was frozen in place, his face distorted. His breathing became heavier, and I could hear the sound of his heartbeat in the silence of the night. Great, I thought sarcastically. At least this is having an impact on him.

“I deserve better,” I said, my voice slightly shaky but firm.

Those were the last words I spoke before I turned around, striding up the stairs with my head bowed. I blocked my hearing from the outside world, refusing to hear anything he might say or do.

However, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand grip the wooden door frame so hard that there was a slight cracking sound. His knuckles turned white, his body tense like a rope about to snap.

But he didn't move. Didn't call out to me.

He remained rooted there, at the door, just staring at me as I walked away.

My steps felt heavy like every meter I walked was a small, painful defeat.

As I was finally getting away from him, a train of thought crossed my mind— If this is the end of the loop, then why does my heart still feel so broken?