Takdir

∞ March ∞

3 March 20xxii. 10 am

Sherry just visited. She made me a cake for my birthday. She apologized for not telling me anything about Adora and Xye's purpose of moving me from under Sherry's wings. She told me she was as clueless as I was at that time.

I didn't know what to say.

I just sat there until Adora came.

∞

10 June 20xxiii. 7 pm

Emptiness.

That is what left in me as I drag myself everyday behind Adora.

∞

29 August 20xxiii. 4 pm

Greta was absent today, but I had nothing to do so I went to the library anyway. Probably the worst decision I have made this week . . . or not.

I caught Xye's figure entering the library as I took the last turn in the hallway. He was alone and I almost didn't saw him. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I didn't run back to my room and followed him inside. I was aware that I would probably leave with an ache in my heart in the evening. But I joined him in the empty room anyway.

Regardless of how much I want to despise him and his presence, regardless of the way he abused me on our first meeting, deep down I feel that my soul will always be his, as much as his will always be mine.

I hate the idea of getting such a gift from the universe. I refuse to believe in soulmates. It all seems so naïve and imposturous to me.

You couldn't just accept a person to occupy the biggest part of your life just because you should. You couldn't give your life to a person, as much as you receive them, just because that is the life you get. You don't do that, simply because life is an option. No one and nothing should write your life for you.

But, when I met him that night under the rain, those thought haven't given me enough power to cut the red thread that connects us. When I met him, I didn't have it in me to simply reject him because I refused to be dictated on who I should spend the rest of my life with. When I met him; yes, I tried to run; yes, I said no . . . but that was all I could afford.

I was weak and hurt. I was alone and had been kicked out from the one place I called home. I was hopeless and I had no destination.

He should have seen the desperation in my eyes. He should have seen all my pain but hasn't acknowledged them. He should have took care of me like every other mates should have been doing; but no, since I passed out from the fright and all the exhaustion, I woke up as cold as I have been before, I was as alone as I would ever be. I was frightened and he was there seeing me through the darkness of the room. My body have been beaten and spines broken. His hands were red and swollen from the blood and all the punches. I cried and cried and cried until I passed out for the second time before him, while he just stood there in silence. He was heartless. He is . . .

I have never believed in soulmates, but he tainted the idea even more with the bloods in his hands that night.

Yet, I should have been laughing at my own idiocy when I entered the library this morning.

I hadn't seen him, thus I made my way quietly through the alleys between each bookshelves. I thought, if all I've seen of him were illusion, I could stay and read some book just to keep myself from acknowledging the emptiness either inside and outside of me.

For sure he was there when I eventually ventured close to the hidden section of the library, partly shaded by the thick curtain attached to the archway.

I scolded my heart as it began racing at the sight of him, as much as it does when I wrote down this memories. I was fooled when I thought he didn't see me coming, because the moment I stepped into the smaller room he turned around and caught me in his stormy eyes.

My tongue was tied whereas he kept his thought to himself during the few steps he took towards me. Among the sunlight dancing in the room, I took in the detail of his features . . . in the way his thick brows frown upon my sight, in the way his lashes flutters every time he blinks, in the way his eyes unwavering and seem to hold me closer than we should ever have, in the way his pursed lips looks slightly chapped, in the way his chin seems protruded in a perfect amount under his stubbles, in the way his long brown hair secured on his nape like always, for a way all of him was engraved in my mind just before he took a step aside and left me there in a disturbed stance.