In My Hands, Know Suffering

7: Penalty Of The Thoughtless

Castellone leaned back in his chair as Abrielle moved herself closer to him. The feel of her lips against him pushed him to internally lay low. He couldn't understand what was happening. Yet again, the urge to witness blood shook him slightly, like it prevented him, prevented the words from surfacing. There was an oppressive force that paid his words no special heed.

A kiss was not something Castellone ever shared with anyone. More so to a stranger. He was too busy thinking about the fuck ups in life that it never occurred to him it might happen in an unexpected way nonetheless.

Abrielle withdrew and saw the astonished look he had. She moved away from him while her gaze was still fixed on his cerulean eyes. "I'm only taking safety measures."

Castellone furrowed his brows though was still dumbfounded. He noticed the slightest blush on her cheeks. Why would she even do that? "The hell do you mean?"

Abrielle looked away. "I...don't know yet." She packed her things hurriedly, hugging them against her chest and just left.

Castellone placed the back of his hand on his lips and wiped it. What on earth was she thinking? Something had later dawned on him. Does she know? Curious, he wanted to witness how things would end for her as he left the library and trailed behind her. He expected to see the end of the thread, or when it could be trimmed.

For the rest of the day, nothing of interest happened. He waited for hours, but there was no trace of a single drop anywhere. Abrielle simply went about normally. That afternoon, she was already leaving the campus. He decided to follow her still, wanting to see it in hopes of being the final witness somehow.

She didn't go to any platform that would suggest a sheer drop from great heights, she had her mind straight of going home. It wasn't working, as if his thoughts were left unsaid. Thinking about it, why did he want someone to die that badly? Why did something from within wanted it to happen? When she kissed him, it disappeared. It just vanished, like a question evading answers as best it could.

Along the sidewalk, Abrielle stopped and turned to face him. She noticed him following her around ever since they left the library. She smiled at him. But he didn't return it. In fact, he was glaring at her. "What? Fallen for me yet?"

Castellone scoffed like what she said was poison. "Who would?"

"Then why are you following me around?"

Castellone didn't answer to that. He shrugged and looked to the side, evading her gaze. He turned around to leave, uncertain of why he did what he did. "Why'd I even bother."

He headed off, each step heavy with a tint of disappointment. He wondered what was he even disappointed about. Not witnessing death? He glanced at the street and crossed paths with the crowd of people. Everything was the same, bland, and uneventful for what he thought was a normal day. Perhaps it would be more interesting if something was actually running out of the context by now. His gaze was unsettling too. He can't seem to stop glancing around while walking, avoiding people who arrived from the opposite and intersecting directions. From a distance, he saw something. A building from across the street. It was hard to ignore.

He looked up the towering apartment buildings and saw an opened window. From that flat, he saw a young man and an old woman who appeared to be arguing. He stopped and casually glanced up from the street below. Curiosity asked him to stand and watch. Perhaps it was something else. He waited.

The old woman slapped the man across the face. Momentarily stunned, the man took a bottle from the desk by the window before smashing it to the woman's head. The old woman stepped backward, her back met the wall's impact. The man, probably her relative who didn't have much respect for her, repeated the gesture. He slammed the bottle over and over until it broke through the continuous smashing, making shattered edges at the end of it.