—
Rody’s knuckles were white as he gripped the locket in his hand, the metal digging into his palm. The weight of what he’d found pressed down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. The tiny bloodstained locket, once a symbol of his love for Manon, was now a twisted relic of a nightmare he could barely comprehend.
The apartment was too quiet, the kind of quiet that amplified every creak of the floorboards and every breath Rody took. Vincent was in the kitchen, humming a soft tune as he prepared their dinner. Rody could see him from where he stood in the doorway, his back turned, completely unaware that Rody had discovered the truth.
The truth that Vincent had killed Manon.
Rody’s thoughts were a chaotic storm-love, fear, rage, and betrayal swirling together until he could hardly think straight. The man he had fallen for, the man he had been ready to build a life with, was a murderer. But what terrified him even more was the realization that, despite everything, he still loved Vincent.
The sound of the knife slicing through vegetables brought Rody back to the present. Vincent moved with the practiced grace of a master chef, each motion precise and controlled. His hands, the same hands that had prepared countless exquisite meals, had also taken Manon’s life.
Rody’s breath caught in his throat, the intensity of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He wanted to scream, to cry, to confront Vincent and demand answers. But more than anything, he wanted to hurt him, to make him feel just a fraction of the pain that was tearing Rody apart.
The locket dropped from his hand, hitting the floor with a soft *thud*. Vincent’s humming stopped abruptly, and he turned to face Rody, his expression softening when he saw him.
“Rody, mon amour,” Vincent greeted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Dinner will be ready soon. Why don’t you sit down and-“
Rody cut him off, his voice a low growl. “You killed her.”
Vincent’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Rody’s tense stance and the raw emotion in his voice. “What are you talking about?”
Rody’s heart pounded in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through him making his hands shake. “Manon. You killed her, Vincent. I found her locket in your desk.”
For a moment, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Vincent’s expression was unreadable, but Rody could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly.
“She was going to take you away from me,” Vincent said quietly, his voice devoid of the warmth it usually held. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
Rody’s breath hitched as the words sank in. The cold, matter-of-fact tone in Vincent’s voice made his blood run cold. He took a step forward, the rage bubbling up inside him, consuming everything else.
“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” Rody hissed, his fists clenching at his sides. “You took her life, Vincent! You murdered her!”
Vincent’s eyes softened as he took a step towards Rody, his hands reaching out as if to comfort him. “Rody, I did it for you. I did it because I love you. She was standing in our way, and I couldn’t let her-“
“Shut up!” Rody shouted, his voice cracking as he backed away from Vincent’s touch. The fury in his chest was too much to contain, too much to bear. He had to release it, to let it out before it consumed him completely.
Vincent’s calm demeanor faltered as Rody’s anger crashed over him like a tidal wave. “Rody, please-“
Before he could finish, Rody’s fist connected with Vincent’s face, the force of the punch sending him staggering back into the counter. A sickening thud echoed through the kitchen as Vincent’s head hit the sharp edge, blood immediately pooling from the gash at his temple.
Vincent’s eyes widened in shock, one hand flying to his bleeding head, the other reaching out to steady himself against the counter. He looked up at Rody, his expression a mix of pain and disbelief. “Rody…”
But Rody wasn’t done. The rage that had been festering inside him for so long now found its release in a brutal onslaught. He grabbed Vincent by the collar and slammed him against the wall, his breath ragged and uneven as he stared into those dark, wide eyes.
“How could you do this?” Rody snarled, his voice thick with emotion. “How could you kill her and then act like nothing happened?”
Vincent winced as Rody’s grip tightened, his eyes glistening with something Rody hadn’t seen before-fear. “I did it for us,” Vincent whispered, his voice strained. “I couldn’t lose you, Rody. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being with her.”
The desperation in Vincent’s voice only fueled Rody’s anger. “You think this is love?” he spat, his heart pounding in his chest. “This is sick, Vincent. You’re sick.”
Vincent’s hands came up to grasp Rody’s wrists, his grip weak and trembling. Blood dripped from his head wound, staining his pale skin, but he didn’t try to fight back. Instead, he looked at Rody with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.
“Maybe I am,” Vincent murmured, his voice barely audible over the pounding of Rody’s heart. “But I’d do it again if it meant keeping you. You’re everything to me, Rody. I can’t lose you.”
Rody’s breath hitched, the weight of Vincent’s words pressing down on him like a physical force. He loosened his grip, stepping back as the horror of what he’d done began to sink in. Vincent slid to the floor, his back against the wall, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as he looked up at Rody with a mixture of pain and devotion.
The sight of Vincent, battered and bleeding on the floor, should have made Rody feel victorious. He had hurt the man who had taken so much from him, who had shattered his life and twisted his love into something dark and monstrous.
But all he felt was emptiness.
He stared down at Vincent, his heart aching with a confusing blend of hatred and love. He wanted to finish it, to end this nightmare once and for all. But as he stood there, fists clenched at his sides, he realized that he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t kill Vincent.
Vincent looked up at him, his eyes pleading, desperate for some sign that Rody hadn’t completely turned away from him. “Rody… I love you. Please… I did it for us…”
The words were like a knife twisting in Rody’s chest. He fell to his knees in front of Vincent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to make sense of the mess their lives had become. Vincent reached out to touch Rody’s face, his fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek.
Rody flinched but didn’t pull away. He hated himself for it, hated how even now, after everything, he still craved Vincent’s touch.
“I can’t forgive you,” Rody whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. “I can’t forgive you for what you did.”
Vincent’s hand fell away, his expression crumbling into one of despair. “I know,” he said softly, his voice broken. “I never expected you to. But please… don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t live without you.”
Rody looked into Vincent’s eyes, seeing the depth of his torment, the twisted love that had driven him to commit such an unforgivable act. And as much as Rody wanted to walk away, to leave Vincent behind and start over, he knew that he couldn’t.
He was bound to Vincent, bound by a love so deep and dark that it consumed everything in its path. He couldn’t kill Vincent, but he couldn’t let him go, either. They were trapped together in this nightmare, bound by shadows that would never let them go.
Rody’s shoulders slumped as he let out a shuddering breath, the fight draining out of him. He reached out to touch Vincent’s face, his fingers gently brushing away the blood that had dried on his skin. Vincent closed his eyes at the touch, a tear slipping down his cheek.
“I don’t know how to do this,” Rody admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to live with what you’ve done.”
Vincent opened his eyes, his gaze filled with a painful sincerity. “Then let me help you,” he whispered. “Let me make it right.”
Rody shook his head, his heart breaking as he looked at the man he loved, the man who had caused him so much pain. “You can’t make this right, Vincent. But… I don’t want to lose you, either.”
The admission hung in the air between them, a fragile, painful truth that neither of them could deny. They were trapped, bound together by love and hate, by the darkness that had consumed them both.
Vincent reached out and pulled Rody into his arms, holding him tightly as if he could somehow keep him from slipping away. Rody let himself be held, his body trembling with the weight of everything they had lost, everything they had become.
And as they clung to each other in the dim light of the kitchen, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock and the faint hum of the refrigerator, Rody’s mind raced with thoughts he couldn’t push away. He was trapped, not just by Vincent, but by his own inability to act decisively. The love he still felt for Vincent made him weak, binding him with invisible chains that tightened with every passing moment.
Vincent’s embrace was warm, yet Rody couldn’t help but feel a chill creeping up his spine. He wanted to pull away, to demand answers, to scream until his voice was hoarse-but all he could do was stay there, his face pressed against Vincent’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. A heart capable of so much love and yet capable of such horror.
“I don’t know what to do,” Rody confessed, his voice muffled against Vincent’s shirt.
Vincent’s hand gently stroked Rody’s hair, the gesture tender and affectionate, completely at odds with the violence that had just transpired. “We’ll figure it out,” Vincent whispered, his voice soothing. “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”
Rody closed his eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He wanted to believe Vincent, wanted to cling to the idea that they could somehow find a way out of this darkness. But deep down, he knew that things would never be the same. The love they once shared was tainted, twisted beyond recognition by Vincent’s actions.
But leaving wasn’t an option. Rody had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Manon was gone, and the few friends he had left wouldn’t understand the depth of his connection to Vincent. And so, he stayed, allowing Vincent to cradle him as if he were something precious, something to be protected at all costs.
“I’m sorry,” Vincent murmured, his lips brushing against Rody’s forehead. “I know I’ve hurt you, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re happy.”
Rody’s heart clenched at Vincent’s words. There was sincerity in his voice, a desperation that was almost heartbreaking. But Rody couldn’t forget what Vincent had done, couldn’t forget the blood on his hands. The memory of Manon’s laughter, her bright smile, haunted him, a ghost that would never leave him in peace.
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” Rody whispered, his voice trembling. “But I can’t leave you, either.”
Vincent’s grip tightened around him, his breath hitching as he held Rody close. “That’s enough for me,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “As long as you’re here with me, that’s all I need.”
The words should have been comforting, but they only served to deepen Rody’s despair. How could they ever move forward when the past was a gaping wound that refused to heal? How could they pretend that things were normal when they were anything but?
Rody pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at Vincent. The cut on Vincent’s temple had stopped bleeding, but the bruising was already beginning to show, a stark reminder of what Rody had done in his rage. And yet, Vincent’s expression was soft, his dark eyes filled with a love that Rody both craved and feared.
“I don’t know how we’re going to do this,” Rody said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I… I’ll stay. I’ll try.”
Vincent’s eyes shone with unshed tears, and he nodded, his relief palpable. “That’s all I ask, mon amour. We’ll take it one day at a time. Together.”
Rody wanted to believe him, wanted to find solace in the idea that they could somehow rebuild what had been shattered. But the darkness lingered, a constant reminder of the violence and betrayal that now defined their relationship.
As they sat together on the cold kitchen floor, Rody realized that this was their new reality-a life defined by secrets and lies, by love twisted into something unrecognizable. He didn’t know how they would survive it, but he knew one thing for certain.
He couldn’t bring himself to kill Vincent.
But in his heart, he wondered if the man he had fallen in love with had already died, leaving behind only a monster with a beautiful face and a love that was as consuming as it was destructive.
And yet, Rody stayed, bound to Vincent by a love that was darker than any shadow, and by a pain that was too deep to ever fully heal.
For better or worse, they were in this together-trapped in a nightmare of their own making, where love and hate were inextricably intertwined, and where neither could escape the other’s grasp.
A/N
This is the worst one I’ve written. I’m half asleep. Anyways please don’t be a ghost reader. Comments and votes help books reach a bigger audience
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