No Love For The Villain - vanish into fiction

Eli’s words sank like stones, sending ripples through Sierra’s chest. Absentmindedly, she placed a hand on her lower abdomen. The corner of Eli’s lips, stained red like rouge, curved upward.

“Sleep well, Sierra.”

He left the affectionate words like a curse.

Sierra stood blankly, watching the black car drive away. She remained alone, like a tree rooted to the spot he had left.

***

Eli pressed down on the accelerator beneath his foot. The car picked up speed, releasing the suppressed slowness that had felt unnatural while the woman was with him.

The Red House grew distant. The woman, who had likely returned to the side of the family she loved so dearly—a family not bound by blood—also grew distant.

Driving back the way he came, Eli looked out the window. He checked what Sierra had been looking at.

What was outside the window that could put a spark of life in those indifferent eyes?

His earlier curiosity felt pointless; the winter scenery outside the window was insignificant. The grey trees, stripped of their leaves, held no value anymore, with no one left to look upon them fondly.

The woman, who had acted like a dead person the entire time, had made her first living expression. The car was moving, music was…

playing, and the moment Sierra’s blue eyes had shone—the scene replayed in his mind.

Alone in the car, he found himself retracing a moment that had already passed. It was involuntary. Even when he tried to stop it, the memory persisted, one linking to the next.

The woman whose golden hair fluttered in the wind, the woman whose face lit up looking at insignificant trees, the woman who flinched at the sound of a saxophone and whose eyes softened at the sound of a piano.

Even the strange, sweet taste of the snack Sierra had put in his mouth came to mind, and Eli let out a soft laugh through his bloodied lips.

The castella that crumbled so easily before it even touched his teeth, even the childishly sweet milk scent inside it—all of it resembled her.

The continuous recollection halted at one particular scene. The smile that had been playing on his lips vanished.

‘If you’re not going to kill me… then don’t come looking for me anymore.’

That was the moment that surfaced.

She could easily ask him to kill her, yet her face filled with fear when he said he would. A single word, and she turned pale as if he’d already killed someone he hadn’t. The life that had sparkled in her eyes died out without a trace.

All that remained was her averted gaze, as if she found the person beside her horrifying, and her plea for him not to come back. That was all.

The music from the radio no longer brought a look of delight to Sierra’s face. The singing voice felt irritatingly sentimental. So, he turned it off.

His intuition had been correct when he saw the woman’s empty room, not knowing where she had gone.

She has a talent for driving people mad.

She acts as if she’ll stay by your side, then turns her back and leaves. Her pleading voice, asking him not to come back, grated on his nerves.

As if silencing an irritating sound, he pressed his lips together. He had indeed made her cry, but it wasn’t satisfying. Was it because he had already seen the light in her eyes when she looked at the winter trees and the piano melody?

Eli swallowed the blood pooled in his mouth as if wetting his dry throat.

He knew he was acting on impulse. A foolish impulse.

What more did he want? Did he want her to look at him as affectionately as she looked at the trees outside the window? Did he want to be the one to bring life to those dead eyes?

Eli frowned deeply and tried to stop thinking. He put an end to the meaningless reminiscing.

The only thing that woman desires is death.

He wiped his lips with his fingertips. The unyielding blood only smeared further across his mouth. His gaze, which had been dwelling on Sierra who left his side as his thoughts spiraled out of control, turned toward the rearview mirror.

A gift he hadn’t been able to give remained on the back seat. The elegantly wrapped gold ribbon fluttered lightly, like the woman’s hair.

Leaving the Red House behind, only the ownerless gift remained.