“Please don't push me away. I want to go with you,” she insisted. “You can handle it. I believe in you.”
Bad decision to make.If she knew what already happened her eyes wouldn’t shine with such faith.
“I told you to leave. I don't want to see you now or after.” His acerbic voice froze the air around. He said it with too much cruelty to joke about or make her doubt it wasn't his real intention.
Her lashes fluttered, her heart sinking. She stared at his face, trying to read at least something in his eyes that would prove her wrong. He looked at her with coldness she'd never seen before. Like she didn't know him at all. Like she was just a stranger to him, a person he couldn't care less about.
Violette's brows pulled closer. “Why are you being an asshole? Why so rude, like I mean nothing to you? Like you don't care.” The tears sparkled in the corner of her eyes.
“Because I don't care about you,” he let out.
This time the dagger pierced right through her heart.
“It's not true…Then you would let me come with you,” she stuttered, her stomach dipping.
“What is not clear to you? I want you to leave and to never see again. You're just mortal, go and live your fantastic magical life, you are free. We had a deal now it's been sealed.Done. We used each other and now it's the end. Can your mind wrap around it?”
Her legs rooted to the ground, she couldn't even move after his words.
Dante's eyes didn't let any light in or out.
“I let you go.” His tone was sharp as steel.
“No, you are kicking me away!” she snorted through tears.
“Call it what you want, but I want you to leave and to never see you again.”
“You didn't mean it…” The corners of her eyes lowered. These words hurt her more than she'd like to admit.
“I meant every word.”
Tears ran down her face, for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. Though her heart hopelessly whispered to her that it wasn't what he wanted to tell her, at the same time it was tearing with every word he was saying – so harsh and cold. It felt like a steel hammer with every blow destroying her fragile heart, which only wanted to believe that she was not just a tool to him.
“Fine…I'll go if you want me to.” She swallowed. “I thought you were better than this,” her voice cracked, hands started shaking, his words echoing in her mind, “And you know…Maybe your heart stopped beating a long time ago but I'm not sure you ever had it at all. In order for the heart to stop – you need to have it first.”
She had no choice but to simply leave. Her legs rushed away from the gate, the tears flowed down her face like a waterfall, no matter how much she tried to wipe them off. Her cheeks were being eaten away by salt, her vision obscured, turning everything around to just a white blur.
Then her hand caught on something hard and long, and she hit the cold snowy ground with her knees. A burning sensation made her gaze drop to her palm – blood.
She squeezed her hand and pressed it to her chest, gasping for air. It wasn't nearly as painful as Dante's words anyway. She couldn’t understand why he treated her like that, as if she truly did mean nothing to him.
She was in pain, unbearably in pain, and she couldn't even find a reason why this pain was comparable to a broken heart. She couldn't even call him a friend. But she thought something had arisen between them, they were clearly not just acquaintances to each other. After these weeks she thought she’d started to understand him but now she clearly saw – she will never get into his way of thinking. All his actions were lies. His confession was just another twisted trick to make her worry for him. He shouldn't do it. It wasunnecessary. They could just stay strangers, instead he used her in the most evil and unfair way possible. She believed this day wouldn't be their last day together but it turned out it was just a game of pretend.
Her chest rose and fell with each quiet sob, her hands gripping herself tightly as she sat in the snow. She felt the cold seeping through her clothes, yet welcomed the numbness it brought. Snowflakes gently landed on her, forming a thin white veil, and for a moment she wished they’d bury her completely.
The snow reflected its blinding white light on the pastel sky – an early morning. But Violette didn't want to get up. Not now. She felt like this pain would destroy her, crack her in half, if she tried to.
Something whipped nearby, as if the wind had passed through, but she didn't feel the cold. A soft whistle cut the air again, making Violette raise her head in a search of the sound’s source. It was too quiet, too peaceful around. She sniffled and looked around again, slowly getting up, her knees quailed.
“Dante?” she let out hesitantly.
“Wrong, pet,” a familiar voice brushed her ear but not the one she wanted to hear.
She spun around and flinched – Nigel was leaning on one of the stone graves.
Her brows twisted together, lips pressed in a thin line.
“You,” she muttered through her teeth.
