Found Obsession

Chapter 105: What exactly is done on New Years?

Hey there, HAPPY END OF THE YEAR

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Elijah drove in silence, the car slicing through the stillness of the night. His mask was gone, stripped away by the chaos Roselyn had left in her wake. They had cleaned up quickly, unsure if she had called the police, though the night outside seemed eerily peaceful, as if she had never been there.

But she had been there. And she was driving him mad.

The man sitting next to him was quiet, his eyes flicking toward Elijah now and then, catching the conflict etched into his features.

"Say it," Elijah hissed, his tone low and venomous, cutting through the silence like a blade. He could feel the man's hesitation, the weight of unspoken words pressing against the air between them.

Finally, the man whispered, "Do you want to do something with us on New Years?"

Elijah's eyes darkened, they always asked. His grip tightening on the steering wheel. For a moment, it seemed he would snap, but instead, he surprised them both.

"What exactly is done on New Years?" Elijah asked, his voice flat but edged with curiosity.

The man blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, he struggled to respond, then stammered, "Well... it's a celebration. People gather, count down to midnight, drink, and... make resolutions for the next year."

Elijah's fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road. A celebration. Counting down. Resolutions. It all sounded pointless, a distraction for those too weak to face the reality of their lives.

But then, Rose's voice crept into his thoughts, her earlier taunt echoing in his mind: Are you doing anything tomorrow for New Years?

The question had been so casual, almost mocking, but it had lingered, twisting his thoughts and making him question her intentions. Was she testing him? Mocking him? Or had there been something else, something deeper, hidden beneath her words?

"Pointless," Elijah muttered, his disdain evident.

The man sighed, hesitating before trying again, "Think about it—having dinner, drinking, eating your grapes with someone you'd want to celebrate with."

Elijah's jaw tightened. "I don't wish to celebrate with anyone," he hissed, his voice sharp. Yet deep down, he knew he was lying.

"Really?" the man whispered, the disbelief clear in his tone.

Elijah's eyes snapped toward him, his glare silencing whatever else he might have said.

"Grapes?" Elijah asked after a pause, his voice laced with skepticism.

"Yeah, grapes," the man said, nodding. "You're supposed to make a wish with each one as you eat it. Twelve grapes, twelve wishes—one for each month of the year."

Elijah's fingers drummed against the wheel, his eyes narrowing. "Wishes," he muttered, the word dripping with disdain.

The man shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, it's just a tradition. People think if you eat them all before the last chime of midnight, your wishes will come true. It's... symbolic, I guess."

Elijah's mind immediately went to Rose. The thought of her sitting somewhere, making wishes, caught him off guard. What would she wish for? Did she believe in something as absurd as this?

"And these wishes," Elijah said slowly, his voice dark and deliberate. "Do they work?"

The man hesitated before replying softly, "Some people say they do."