While watching the truth upon the screen, I still don’t understand why I hesitated that night, why my limbs felt like lead at the sight of a knife in the hands of a girl who could barely use a spoon. What force kept me anchored, silent, as she,the only one who had ever opened her fragile heart to me,lay defenceless?
Perhaps, after my birthday, I became something less than human, a more gloomy and sorrowful spirit.But she had been a part of me, and for a fleeting moment, she had quieted the fury coiled within my chest. At the moment where she lay between life and death, nothing could keep my hunger for vengful acte at bay.
I walked toward the dormitory, my breath steady, my fingers twitching with anticipation. The pulse in my left hand,a hand that had once betrayed blood, drummed like a war chant. The thrill of it all wrapped around me like an old friend.
I pushed the door open.
Jassmine flinched from Taylor’s side.
"Did you enjoy my gift?" Taylor’s smirk was carved with arrogance, his charm a hollow thing.
"Oddly enough, Taylor, I don’t hate you," I murmured, tilting my head. "But your queen is getting on my ass."
Jassmine arched a delicate brow, her lips curling. "Oh? My beauty unsettles you? It’s only natural to envy someone like me. You crave love, don’t you? You want to be adored like me."
How easily she exposed herself. That perfect face, the blind boy at her side,her prized possessions. She wanted to hoard affection, to be the only one touched by admiration. Seeing me with Kyou had threatened jealoisy in her inner self, so she sought to shatter it.
"If you breathe a word about tonight," she whispered, slipping a knife from the folds of her silk pyjamas, "you and Kyou will regret it."
I stepped forward, closing the distance.
Then, without hesitation, I finally seized the blade.
Cold steel bit into my palm. Blood, dark, and vivid, spilt between my fingers, pooling at our feet. Jassmine inhaled sharply. Taylor’s bravado withered in an instant.
The knife slipped from her grip, clattering to the floor.
I knelt, fingers wrapping around the handle, its weight achingly familiar. A shiver of déjà vu rippled through me.
Jassmine staggered back, her breath unsteady.
The blade met her skin, gliding down in a single, unbroken line.
She touched her cheek, her fingers trembling against the wound.
For the first time, the princess tasted fear.