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My blood ran cold. This wasn't just callous; it was cruel, a calculated torture he relished in the thought of.
"You're cold and heartless," I spat, barely concealing the fury bubbling within me. "Why didn't you tell her this before? Why wait until the near of graduation?"
He shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that only added fuel to the fire. "Just kept things interesting, that's all. Besides, I only stuck around long enough to see how well you'd do. Tresa spoke highly of you, you know."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. This was exactly why I disliked confiding in Tresa. She always managed to twist my words, turning harmless conversations into ammunition for Dax's manipulations.
"And why does your personal history with Tresa have to involve me?" I demanded, my voice rising in anger.
"Because you're the reason it's even relevant," he countered, his smirk widening. "Always there for her, always supporting her, yet never receiving the same in return. It's obvious you two aren't that similar after all."
"Don't speak about her like that!" I snapped, my anger reaching its boiling point.
"We both know it's true," he said, his voice devoid of empathy. "Now, tell me, when was the last time Tresa stood up for you?"
His words hung in the air, a cruel accusation that stung my pride. I couldn't recall a single instance where Tresa had defended me, despite my unwavering loyalty towards her. It was a bitter pill to swallow, a stark realization of the imbalance in our friendship.
"Dax, please," I sighed, my head spinning from the deluge of emotions he had unleashed. My mind refused to process the sheer volume of his vitriol, the twisted pleasure he took in my pain and Tresa's suffering.
But buried in his words was a hint of truth, a glimmer of something I couldn't ignore. Tresa never had my back, never defended me against Dax's wrongdoings. She was too enamored by the lavish gifts he'd shower her with. Meanwhile, I pushed away anything that came from him, refusing to be swayed. Tired, oh so tired, of constantly battling his repulsive behavior, I finally gave up. I had no desire to listen to Dax's excuses or relive the pain he caused. Both of them, Dax and Tresa, were part of my past now. In fact, I had been planning to confront Tresa, to tell her that I no longer wanted to be her puppet, blindly following wherever she led. This was about freedom, about finding my own independence. Despite Tresa's generous offer to let me stay at her place, it was time for a change. I had saved up enough money to make a move, and now was the perfect moment. All I needed was to focus on college, on pursuing my dreams, and leaving this wretched city behind for good.
Yet, amidst my resolve, his words reverberated through me, a sharp sting that refused to fade. "You knew I didn't love her," he accused again, his voice laced with accusation. "Why didn't you warn her?"
The injustice of his question burned within me. "Because I knew she wouldn't listen," I countered, my voice tight with frustration. "She was blinded by your manipulation, trapped in a cycle of your fabricated promises. You two were the worst kind of couple, a never-ending carousel of breakups and reconciliations, fueled by petty arguments and fleeting apologies."
His lips twisted into a smirk. "It was entertaining, wasn't it?" he taunted.
"There was no enjoyment for me in witnessing your toxic charade," I spat, my voice dripping with disdain.
"That's because you haven't experienced the joys of love," he retorted, a sardonic glint in his eyes. "No one ever asks you out, do they?"
My anger flared. "What makes you say that?"
"Because it's obvious," he sneered. "You're alone, Skye. Never invited to parties, never asked on dates. A constant observer, never a participant."
His words struck a raw nerve. Was he right? Was I truly invisible, a mere shadow against the backdrop of vibrant lives?
"Don't pretend you know anything about my experiences," I challenged, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and vulnerability.
He chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Oh, but I do, Skye," he whispered, his voice edged with a chilling intimacy. "I've been watching you. Studying you. For a long time."
My blood ran cold. "You've been stalking me?" I gasped, the words tumbling out in disbelief.
He leaned closer, his face a mask of predatory delight. "Very closely," he purred. "You're so quiet, so enigmatic. It's fascinating, watching you glide through life, untouched by the chaos that surrounds you."
A shiver ran down my spine, a primal fear taking root in my gut. "But why?" I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible. My life, as far as I knew, was far from being anything extraordinary.
"Curiosity," he replied, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "You're a puzzle, Skye. A mystery I'm determined to unravel."
His words hung in the air, laden with a chilling promise of things to come. There I was, ensnared in the web of his twisted fascination, a helpless fly entangled in the intricate designs of a predator.
For the first time, Dax had uttered words that weren't laced with cruelty, deviating from his usual pattern of relentless bullying. I was left grappling with the ambiguity of his intentions. Was this a genuine compliment, a fleeting moment of kindness? Or was it merely another layer of his manipulative facade, a calculated move to further entrap me?
The way he spoke sent a blush creeping up my cheeks, a physical reaction I couldn't resist. In that strange moment, I saw him with fresh eyes, truly noticing his striking features for the first time. The piercing deep blue of his eyes, the sharp lines of his jawline, all previously ignored in the face of his hurtful actions, suddenly came into focus.
It dawned on me that I had never truly seen him before, too preoccupied with the pain he inflicted. Perhaps that's why Tresa was drawn to him, along with the rest of the school. Maybe, just maybe, it's why he felt something for me, even if he couldn't—or wouldn't—express it directly.
But this newfound awareness only heightened my apprehension. His words, while flattering, were shrouded in a dangerous ambiguity. His intentions remained unclear, leaving me vulnerable and exposed within his web of manipulation. The danger lurked, masked by a fleeting moment of kindness, making the situation all the more precarious.
