Until

'Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,

Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.'

-William Shakespeare, Titus Andronicus

His white shirt is now marked with crimson, his cheeks stained with dried streaks of blood as dark as claret. We stood there, looking at each other, all the untold words unfolding, all the warmth of the situation replaced by harsh coldness. He wanted to evacuate me out of this, but it was too late. Revenge was in my blood, fresh vengeance seething inside me. It was my retribution, my vendetta.....

"Ophelia, I'm sorry",his words were rough, yet they felt like honey to my ears.

The atmosphere is entwined with equanimity, of the horror of what happened. And he just stood there, culpability and rage coloring his bewitching cerulean eyes. That's when I knew I had fallen for him. All the fanatical behavior now made sense. I loved him, I loved Heath Archdale, just as much I loved Hayden Archdale.......and I knew sooner or later I'll end up six feet under.