Perfect. [Completed]

Chapter 10. Speak up

Xara's POV.

My hand was still throbbing in pain as my hands gripped the edge of the table, my breath shaky and almost hallow. I didn't hear any sound from the couch, so I assumed Romeo wasn't moving as well, probably taken aback by that slap. I couldn't blame him for that honestly. Even to me it came as a surprise.

But why had I slapped him?! He wasn't doing anything dangerous or particularly annoying, I wasn't angry at him. More, than always, I mean. It felt like my hand had been acting on its own accord, without contacting my mind first.

It must've been for Fred. Yeah. Romeo had murdered him, and now I wanted to make him suffer. I wanted to. I truly did.

He moved silently, but that sound was enough for me to snap my attention to him. My enemy looked at me in fear and shook his head, as if expecting his hair would hide him from me. No such luck. The crimson curtain that had once been his defence was now lying on the floor, shattered.
- Clean up. - I said calmly for some unknown reason. He nooded and walked over to the broom, his scarred hands wrapped around the handle and I bet I could see him almost relaxing instantly.

I watched from the chair as Romeo was sweeping the floor. He knew I was watching him, and I wasn't sure whether he liked that fact or not. But the silence was slowly growing tense and uncomfortable, and very soon I felt like I had to say something. Anything.
- Why do you not talk?
He turned around looking at me in confusion, before realising his fringe couldn't hide him from me anymore. His grey eyes immediately looked at the floor, but this time I didn't feel any irritation or hatred. In fact, I felt a tingle of pity. What had that doctor Doe done to him to turn him into such a... Well, such a rag, I couldn't find a better word.

- Why do you not talk? - I repeated my question, and pretty soon Romeo realised he didn't have a choice but to answer.
- Not used to. - He whispered, his focus trained on the broom.
- Why not? You've always liked the sound of your own voice.
- Not anymore. It's pathetic.

I frowned. Since when did he think his voice was pathetic?! It was strong and deep, even now, when I could barely make out his words.
- It's something he did, isn't it? - I hissed through my gritted teeth, unexpected rage bobbling up in my chest. - That John Doe.
Romeo flinched. I probably shouldn't have said that monster's name, but when my enemy looked at me again, in his dull eyes I saw a spark of his former power. And, for some reason, it felt like a mountain had dropped from my shoulders.

However, not a second too soon, that spark faded away, and the man simply sighed, nodding his head weakly. I frowned, suddenly surprised by my dissapontment. Why did I want to see that spark of power, that shadow of his former self again?
- What has he done? - I questioned, my voice filled with a little empathy. I don't know how it appeared there in the first place, but it worked. Romeo looked at me in confusion, and this time it took him about ten seconds to look on the floor.
- Why do you care? - He asked bitterly, gripping the handle of the broom tighter. - Don't you hate me?
- I do! - I snapped, jumping on my feet. - You've murdered my friend! Our friend! How can I not hate you?!

He didn't answer, but I didn't need it anymore. How dare he talk to me like that?! How dare he even assume I could ever forgive him?! I stormed upstairs, but about in the middle of the stairs my rage disappeared as instantly as it had appeared. For a few moments I stood there, looking at the wall in a sort of confusion, before descending back.

Romeo finished cleaning. Now he was sitting on the sofa, staring at the fireplace before him. I was silently sitting on a chair, watching him. Neither one of us moved, neither one of us talked, neither one of us wanted to break that silence again. The sky slowly turned dark behind the windows, and I felt weak hunger waking up in my stomach.