Why did I do this to her?

I asked myself that, while watching her shivering below me.

Things had been going well. I managed to get rid of all the distractions around her. But now, its over.

She looks so scared.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

If I had just...no. This was my fault. I did this to her. I stole everything from her. And now that she has nothing left for me to take, its only now that I realize this?

I'm a...

|■|

As he got up from bed, he looked at the picture hanging on his wall, only to pretend he hadn't, as he turned away from it and opened his door. He stepped out, for a moment, before turning his back without going any further.

While trying not to think about that picture he didn't consider thinking about anything else. He took out some clothes from his dresser before heading to the bathroom.

He put his clothes down on the barren counter and turned on the shower. He made sure to set it to the same lukewarm temperature as always. His persistence, in that regard, is so irritating.

As he took off his shirt, he paused for a moment, before taking off everything else. There were red marks on his chest, but he acted like he didn't notice them as he threw his clothes into the hamper in the corner of the room.

Reminding himself of what he did yesterday won't do anything, but...he doesn't even want to acknowledge it.

He got in and half-heartedly washed himself. Once he was done, he turned the water off and stepped out. The marks were gone even before he got out.

He dried himself off and got his change of clothes on. He stood in front of the mirror and started doing other menial tasks, the same way he always did them.

But, even after he's done, he continues to stand there, staring at his reflection, as if he doesn't recognize what he's looking at.

For a moment, something else is standing there. It looks just like him. It has that same disgusting look that he always has. Oh, it's already gone. It was only there for a moment.

What are you trying to do?

He turned off the lights, blatantly ignoring me, and walked out of the room. He still won't listen. He's stuck in his own world after all.

He walked over to a room in the back and put his hand on the door. He can't open it on his own, but he continues to stand there nonetheless.

"I'll be back." His voice is quiet and dry. With no one there to give him a response, he can only stand there in silence. Doing nothing won't bring anything back.

For a moment, he looks surprised by something. He looking at something outside. He stood up and walked over to the front door. He let out an exhausted sigh as he closed the door.

He got down the stairs, which creaked with each step he took until he reached the concrete below, and walked to his bike, which was secured to a rack outside.

He started pedaling as soon as he got on. There was always a sense of rhythm to how he'd move his feet along, but it's eerily missing now.

There's no sense of urgency in his expression. He's got the same disgusting look he's always got on. But, something is different; even if that difference is inconsequential, it means there's something he can't control.

He suddenly stopped, just a few blocks away from where he was heading, at an intersection, and began looking around.

Cars began to pass in front of him, stopping him from going any further. He could've passed earlier, but he didnt.

He got off his bike and started running at some guy who was about to pass him. The sound of the oncoming traffic is gone, along with the stench of burning gasoline. Everything is fading out.

He dragged the guy back onto the sidewalk and everything went back to how it was. The blaring noise was irritatingly loud as it passed by them.

He looked back at the guy, lying on the ground, gasping for air, and reached his hand down to help him up.

His vision becomes distorted and he nearly falls over.

He watched the guy walk over to the other side of the crossing. The cars began to pass again, separating them. If he didn't want to get involved with him, why help him at all?

While having that shameful thought, he picked up his bike and began pushing down on the the pedals, with the same blank look as before.

It doesn't take him long to reach the front gate. He got off his bike and locked it to the metal frame, before getting on his way to class.

Something caught his eye, as he walked in, but he didn't let it show. He stopped for a moment, but kept on going, and did his best to not look in her direction.

As he stood in front of her, still wondering what to do, he noticed the book in her hands and started thinking about it.

He watched her flip a page and gave a strange amount of attention to the way her finger moved it. He's being too obvious about it.

"Hey." He instantly regretted saying that as suddenly as he did, but it seemed unnatural. He wanted to regret it more than he actually did, but why?

"Huh?" Surprised by his sudden greeting, she looked taken aback at first. She had a distant look in her eyes, but he wouldn't bring that up to her.

"Hey?" Her confused voice, while returning his greeting, had him feeling embarrassed, and she looked a little uncomfortable.

"Uhh...Well, you're...that's where I usually sit, so..." He had a hard time saying it, but he had no choice but to. If didn't want to say that, he should've just said what he want to.

"Oh. Sorry, I've been kinda out of it this morning." She got up and sat down at the desk behind him. Seeing her sit there surprised him, but it doesn't show on his face.

He sat down as well and noticed the book on his desk. Not saying anything about it could lead to problems, so, he decided to hand it back to her.

"You weren't kidding, huh." As he said that, he turned around, facing her head on, and held her book out in his hand.

A slight blush showed on her cheek, as she reached out to grab the book from him. She didn't say anything, though, which bothers him.

"You okay?" He's able to speak calmly, now, since he decided to drop the act. He doesn't want to leave her alone like this, after all. Even if that means he'll have to go out of his way to figure something out.

"What?" She looks at him, staring into her eyes, and starts to feel uncomfortable. She begins looking for a way out of this. "There's nothing wrong, okay."

"I'm glad that you're fine. If you want to ask me anything, go right ahead." He's talking to her like like this, despite not really meaning it. He's going to do it again; it hasn't even been that long since-

His vision becomes distorted and he nearly falls out of his chair.

"What does it mean to love someone?" She suddenly asks him that, with no hesitation. She doesn't seem to have any ulterior motive, but she's really flustered.

You're glad that she's fine? What a joke.

You planned to do this from the start.

"That's...quite the question." He's afraid that this could end up backfiring on him, but he's too worried about her to stop himself now.

If he was really that worried about her, he wouldn't have forced her to do this. Even after all this time, he hasn't changed at all.

"It means you want to be with that person more often than not and you want to make them happy in whatever way you can, even if it means going out of your way sometimes." He spoke from the heart when he said that to her, precisely because it was her. Blood rushed to his face, as he realized what he had just done.

"That's what I....think at least. What about you? Do you have someone like that?" He asks her that, fully intent on comforting her in any way he can; he's completely oblivious to how he looks while saying that.

"I've never really thought about it that much. I love my friends and family, but other than that, I don't really know what its like." Her sullen voice was exemplified by her downcast eyes. She seems surprised by his sincere response to her abrupt question, as was I. He's already this far in; in his mind, there's no point in turning back now.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"Is that why you asked me about it?" He's trying to get her to reveal the reason for her worries, without signaling his intentions to her. Even if what he's doing might actually help her, it's still wrong. Making her tell him like this, it goes beyond simply being nosy.

"It's...nothing, really. Sorry, that was a weird question to ask so suddenly, wasn't it. I just say whatever's on my mind sometimes. Don't think too much about it. It's not important." She put on a vacant smile while saying that, trying to hide her embarrassment. If he doesn't want to go back to how things were before, he'll stop while he still can.

"Do you mean that?" Putting her on the spot like this will lead to more problems. So, why is he doing this? He seems frustrated by something. I can't tell what it is; he's hiding it from me. Though, there's a bit of redness on that blank expression of his.

"Umm...I just..." She already didn't expect him to take what she said so seriously. Now that she's coming to her senses, she looks completely flustered by his retort. She never wanted to ask him that to begin with. He forced her to. "It's fine if you just pretend I didn't ask you anything."

"That's not what I meant." He's frustrated with her misunderstanding what he was saying. He might have also been feeling guilty for making her say something like that, despite what he'd done to her.

"I'm sorry for bothering you." She picked up her book and tried her best to push him away. He sees this and begins questioning his motives. If he goes any further than this, he'll be undoing what he worked so hard to achieve in this place.

"I wasn't bothered." She looked away from her book and at him. She's just as surprised as I am. For once, he actually meant what he said.

"There's nothing wrong with saying what's on your mind; that's how you feel. No one would be bothered by that." It's shocking to hear this coming from him of all people. But that doesn't really matter. Why is he doing this?

"It's not important? There's no way that could be true." She slowly put her book down and noticed the bit of redness on his cheeks. Seeing that, she closed her book and faced him again.

Of all the chances you've had.

Of all the times you could have done something.

Why now?

Why are you doing this now?

"It's not weird to think about your feelings. If you're worried about something and you want to talk to someone about it, go for it. No one will chastise you for that. And you don't need to feel rushed to have feelings for someone either. If you do ever think you have feelings like that, you can decide what those feelings mean to you at your own pace and on your own terms. Feelings are precious; they're what make you, you. So don't say they don't mean anything to you." He said that with a calmness that didn't suit this facade he'd made for himself.

She hasn't moved an inch since he started talking. He began acting as if he felt nervous seeing her like this. His inability to be consistent is irritating.

He was barely able look at her as he awkwardly played with his bangs. The silence was slowly becoming too much for him. And I can barely stand him acting embarrassed like this.

"Okay...?" She looked bothered by something, saying that with a confused voice to him, but she also seemed happy about something as well.

I messed up.

The sudden anxiety had him feeling a shortness of breath while he stared at the ground, unable to move. He's acting as if he regretted what he said.

"I'm so-"

"Thank you." Her sweet voice trampled over his vain attempt of sincerely insincerely apolgizing for something she had no way of remembering.

In an instant, all the dread and anxiety he was feeling vanished. He's so relieved that its a bit creepy.

Her light blue eyes glistened as she looked at him and her hazelnut hair shined against the sun. He's completely entranced by her.

What was I trying to do again...?

"Louise, I-" His voice began to come out naturally, as if he'd forgotten why he was there. He stopped talking just as abruptly.

His vision becomes distorted, and everything is gone.

You're fine with forgetting what you did?

Stop lying to yourself.

You still feel guilty.

Isn't that why you trapped yourself in this world?

"Are you okay?" Her worried voice goes unnoticed by him. His pale skin has become eerily gray and tinted. Why is he putting himself through this?

Isn't that why you cling to everything that's left?

Even if you start over and try again.

If no one can blame you for what you did,

they can't forgive you for it either.

What will you do if even you forget what you are?

"HEY!" Her voice rang in his ear, dragging him away from 'his' ramblings. Everything is back now, but he's feeling anxious somehow. It must've been from what 'he' said.

He looked around the room until he saw her standing next to him, with her hand cupped against his ear, and instinctually became flustered.

She looked relieved now, but something is off with that look she's making. And something is off with the way he looks as well.

He turned away from her, feeling tears well in his eyes, and reached his hand up to rub them. She grabbed his hands, before he could, and brought his attention back to her.

"What're you-...?" His voice cut off as she embraced him. He tried to get away, but her hands reached around his back, trapping him.

"You're so cold. It kinda tickles." She laughed a little, as she said that to him, and he began feeling guilty again. He bit down on his lip, hoping that it would clear his mind.

"It's fine if you let go." His sarcastic comment failed to hide his embarrassment from her. Instead of listening to him, she began clinging to him even more.

"I like it." Her quiant voice was deafening to him. Listening to her say that made him feel more guilty. He's going to do it again, isn't he.

His vision becomes distorted and his body goes limp for a moment. His only saving grace was that he already had a cushion to fall on.

"What happened just now?" It was like thorns were scraping against the walls of his ears, listening to her ask him that. He felt like he'd been backed into a corner, with no way out. It didn't work this time. For once, he'll have to figure something out on his own.

"This is kind of...I mean, we're in class still." His dry words came out almost reflexively. Almost. Even he would feel something after using it so many times.

"Oh...In that case." She sounded dissapointed at first, but she immediately seemed more...excited. He shuddered for a moment, as if he could tell what she was about to do..

She picked up her leg and carried it over him, and then the other. Once she was done, she looked at him, waiting to see how he'd react.

Once she saw how flustered he was, she leaned her head against his chest and smiled smugly, barely able to keep herself from laughing.

"What are you doing?" His voice came out awkwardly, as he tried his best to cling on to his sanity. He knew this was redundant, but he needed to say something to distract himself.

"You're so cute. I can't help it." Her words would have been provocative if she had said them in her usual tone, but...she seemed worried about something.

"What are you doing?" He repeated his question, in the same tone as always, wearing the same expression as always, and with the same intentions he always had, as if doing so would somehow yield him a different answer.

His vision becomes distorted for a moment, but it doesn't affect him this time.

"Would it better if I said I wanted your attention?" Her flirtatious words and her bold attitude, both irritated him now.

Why? Why did it work this time?

"Get off." Any hint of embarassment in his voice or from his expression was gone. He seemed genuinely annoyed.

Is there some kind of threshold for it? Or was he doing something else before?

She looked at him in shock and silence, before feeling embarrassed and averting her gaze, losing the confidence to look directly at him.

"I'll push you off myself if you won't listen." Fed up with her silence, he became even more irritated and genuinely looked ready to put his words into motion.

What's going on? Why is he doing this?

She got up in an instant, and sat back down in the seat behind him. He looked back at her, only to be met with her gorgeous bangs covering her eyes, as she looked down at the table in front of her.

He flicked her lightly on her forehead and watched as she slowly lifted her head to meet his face. He doesn't feel bad about what he did.

"Don't do something like that, ever again." He'll only make her feel worse by continuing to berate her like this. I can tell she's about to cry.

"I hate it." His harsh tone was hard to listen to. Even if I've lost the ability to sense it, I know her heart sank the moment those words left his mouth.

"That's enough. Please....I'm sorry." She was holding in her tears as she said that to him. She couldn't look up anymore; she didn't want to see what kind of face he was making.

"Huh? Why are you apologizing?" He seemed genuinely confused as he said that, which shocked her enough to raise her head once more to face him. His confusion this time is different. Did he actually not realize what he was saying?

"Didn't you say you hated it?" Her despondent tone as she asked him that finally makes him realize what's going on. How the hell did he not realize it sooner?

No, he must have realized. There's no doubt in my mind that he said it like that on purpose, just to mess with her feelings.

"That's not what I-...Don't force yourself to do something you're not used to. If you feel uncomfortable, say something about it. That's what I meant." He looked into her widened eyes as he said that to her. He was so focused on what he was saying that he had forgotten how close they were. "I'm...sorry for saying it in such a misleading way." He backed away from her, while saying that, but he didn't look away from her.

"Wha-...Why are you apologizing now?" She pushed her bangs back behind her ear, a move that captivated him, briefly, and wiped her eyes a bit.

"To make it fair?" As he said that, he noticed the redness under her eyes. He reached his hand out to her and...

She blinked a few times, without saying a word, seemingly unable to process what he was doing. He carefully rubbed her eye and felt an odd sensation rising in his chest as he did.

Suddenly, she held his hand and began leaning on it, while an awkward smile appeared on her lips.

They're silently looking at each other, lost in their own thoughts, unable to see or hear anyone else around them.

He slowly moved his hand down, tracing his finger along her cheek, until he stopped himself.

He's lost in his own thoughts. He's hiding it from me, but I can still vaguely tell what he's thinking.

He considers giving up on this plan of his.

He takes his hand away and looks at her, looking at him.

It only takes him a moment to give up on what he'd been planning to do.

"Louise, I-" His voice came out shrewdly, but was cut off by a much louder noise.

Brrrrrrrrr.

He turned away from her and faced the front of the class, his heart beating out of his chest. It's taking all he has to concentrate on what's in front of him.

I don't know what he's thinking, but he seems confused by something. The teacher walked into the class and opened up a book on their desk.

"Everyone, take out your textbooks to chapter 7." The teacher's voice forced him to stop worrying about it, for now. He took out a book and stared robotically at its overproduced pages. Every word in every sentence on every page of this book, he had memorized it all.

None of it means anything to him.

He read it simply because he was told to.

He's in this world because he was told to.

Maybe he'll even die if he's told to.

|□□□|

He's standing in front of his apartment now. He's been standing there, silently, for a while now.

He reached for the knob, but, still, nothing. It's annoying, watching him act like this. I can only watch him. Even if I reach out to him, he ignores my every word.

He opened the door and walked inside. In the kitchen, he began staring at a cabinet, before opening it. He pulled out a knife and looked down at his glazed reflection.

It slips out of his hand, but he doesn't pick it up. His hand isn't shaking, his heart isn't beating out of control, and he's breathing just fine. There's no one here to do anything about it. There's nothing stopping him. He picks it back up and puts it away.

He heads to his room, feeling exhausted. He sits down and pulls the sheets over himself. He closes his eyes and tries to pretend he won't wake up this time. Of course, the only person he never manages to fool, is himself.