Sunny days were all she ever wanted, but after he crossed her path, her nights turned into storms.
The weather changed, and so did her dreams. Scar finds beauty in the gray sky and love in Damien, the heartless boy. She loses her virginity to the to...
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"Have you ever thought about it? How the smallest of decisions can completely change the course of your life? The outcome?"
The cold, controlled voice continued to echo through the cold walls, footsteps resounding firmly.
The girl felt her heart pounding in her throat, desperate in its frenzied beats. Yet, the explosion was well-contained inside her; externally, she didn't show any reaction.
"Like the flutter of an innocent butterfly's wings... something so small can have such a big impact," he continued, pensive, resting the gun against his chin.
When he was satisfied with his own analysis, he turned to Scar once again.
"None of this would be happening if you hadn't gone to that bar, little Scarlett. If you hadn't met him that night," he tightened his thin lips into a satisfied smile, narrowing his eyes, trying to evoke some reaction from the battered female body, unable to get any. "Do you understand that? Are you angry knowing that whatever happens to you wouldn't happen if it weren't for him?"
"I don't regret it," a hoarse and worn voice replied, sounding so weak and low, barely seeming to have crawled from Scarlett's throat, fading with the last of her strength.
"What?" the man asked loudly.
She took a deep breath and clenched her hands, barely feeling the tips of her fingers after being handcuffed behind the chair for so long.
The bruises on her wrists no longer hurt; she had accepted that there was no escape. She was trapped there. She would die there. In front of the boy she loved.
"I said I don't regret going to that bar."
Scarlett's mouth was dry while her face remained damp from the recent, warm tears. She was exhausted, barely able to keep her dull eyes open... She would have closed them and given up if it weren't for his.
If it weren't for Damien's steady gaze on hers, as if trying to hypnotize her, to drag her away, to one of their memories where they were safe.
Together. Alive.
Without a monster torturing them.
The girl felt a tear trickle down her expressionless face and dove into the dark eyes in front of her, trying to forget that they were there, handcuffed, injured, and subdued, facing each other. If that was their last moment together, she wanted it to be truly theirs.
"I don't regret meeting you, I don't regret giving myself to you, helping, believing... Damien, I don't regret falling in love with you."
Scarlett tasted the salty taste of tears playing on her tongue, cleansing her soul as she said her goodbyes.
Damien furrowed his brow and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. And then Scarlett wondered if he was doing the same as her... If he was trying to cling to memories of what they had. Reliving the moments when they were happy, surrendered, accepted each other.
The fights, the confessions, the stolen kisses... The ink, the secrets, the smiles... The rain, his bed, their bodies... Their storms.
She hoped he was, hoped he would keep her alive in his memories. If that was the only way to remain with him, she wanted to be in his thoughts. Because if she died that night, she would take him with her, in her heart.
When Damien opened his eyes as dark as the night, the young woman had her answer. Yes, he was thinking of her. The subtle, dark gleam in his pupils left her without doubt.
She could read him, perhaps she was the only one who could. The thought almost made her smile sadly if it weren't for the abrupt interruption of exaggerated laughter behind her, crudely bringing her back to the grim reality.
"Sweet, sweet Scar..." the armed man said in her ear. But to her relief, the voice moved away.
However, the feeling didn't last long because now he stood behind Damien, occasionally pressing the gun against the temples of the boy she loved.
Her weak body found the strength to despair, but Damien remained calm, looking at her that way. His way. Saying that everything would be okay, that he was there with her. And Scarlett believed him.
"Love is underestimated. Don't you think? At least, that's how I see it."
Macabre and playful, the man toyed with the gun against Damien's head. And for the first time in her life, the girl felt hatred. The purest and most primitive hatred for that being.
She would kill him if she could. She would shoot him in the face, plunge a knife into his chest. Anything, she felt capable of doing anything if he hurt him.
"Do you believe you love him? Do you believe he loves you? More than he loves himself? Well, I want to see that," he said simply, lowering the gun.
The man took a key from his pocket and shrugged as he thought aloud.
"Human beings are selfish creatures... Sometimes we need to learn in the worst possible way."
He freed Damien from the handcuffs while a second man stood, gun pointed at the boy's head, ready to pull the trigger if needed.
The dark-haired boy brought his hands forward, showing he was free. And Scarlett blinked a few times, lost.
"I'm touched, Scar... and curious. For this reason, I'll let one of you live to tell the end of this story. Damien..." he called, offering the gun. "One bullet. One chance," he took a step back, feeling secure with the henchman aiming at the young man in case he attempted a third option. "It's your choice. You can shoot her or yourself. So, love-stricken boy, who will survive tonight?"
Damien looked at the girl intensely, as if trying to say something.
Scarlett no longer felt her heart when she watched him slowly raise the gun towards her, placing his aim on her chest. But, surprisingly, she felt no fear. She didn't want her last feeling to be that.
So she plunged into Damien's dark irises, forgetting everything else, silently mouthing an 'I love you' through her dry lips, watching a single tear escape from the black, dark, intense eyes she loved so much.
Even if she knew that would be the end, even if she could return to that New York night, she wouldn't change anything. She wouldn't alter a single comma of the story she had lived until then. It had been worth it. She would do it all over again.
And with that thought, Scarlett closed her eyes, without regrets, hearing the echo of the shot reverberate in her head as Damien pulled the trigger.
