━━━━༻ ♠ ༺━━━━ You choose to escape ━━━━༻ ♠ ༺━━━━

(Y/n) cast a look at the staircase behind her before making her decision. They wouldn't hurt Reese, she consoled herself even though some doubts still lingered in her mind. And even if I go down there, they'll probably find out and then we'll both be trapped down there. It's a lose-lose situation. I can't do anything by myself.

It was the truth and admitting it only made her feel worse. She stared down at her hands, silently berating herself over how weak they looked. She couldn't do anything alone, so the only option was for her to escape quickly and find someone who could. And then maybe, just maybe, everything would go back to normal again. She'd be able to laze about all she wanted while keeping a watchful eye out for anything that dares to disrupt that normalcy.

Only, it wouldn't be the same anymore. And she's resigned herself to that fact.

Having no choice but to leave the passage open since she had no idea how to close it, she began running as fast as she could towards the broken window. And mind you—those windows were hard to break. You think she hasn't tried? No matter what chair or stick she got her hands on to try and break it—she wasn't allowed tools or sharp objects—the stubborn glass refused to crack. Her efforts resulted in only a scratch.

She could hear the voices grow closer. Jaehyun's resentful one—resentment towards her or Kieran, she didn't know. Kieran's taunting one as he fled from the blond's attacks, and Leon's furious voice drowning out Tristan's irritated one. It was a cacophony of sounds she wished to erase from her mind forever.

She came to a stop before the broken window and peeked behind her. She'd made it without either Leon or Tristan noticing her, and they were only a few steps away. Now that I think about it, am I someone who lacks presence?

Eh, whatever. She did her best to break the largest shards that were on the bottom ledge so she wouldn't accidentally impale herself on them, hoping the sound of Leon's destruction would cover up the noise she was making. It took her a few tries but once it looked like she could safely heave herself over the windowsill without losing a limb, she discontinued her efforts and braced her hands on the sides of the window, ready to leap out.

And then she did. Her heart raced erratically as she sprinted away from the manor, mentally applauding herself for making it away in one piece. Or at least, in one piece physically. She wasn't so sure about her mental health, however.

As she ran through the trees that ringed the manor, sunlight filtering through the overhead branches and dappling little waterdrops of amber on the emerald grass, she started to get a strange feeling that someone was watching her. Which was strange because she was alone as far as she could see. There were no animals, birds—no trace of any life at all in the forest, which was strange. It was like all the game decided to flee at the presence of a larger predator.

She stopped at a tree to catch her breath. Her smug grin faltered. No way, right? She took a look around her just to make sure. Burnt copper clouds smudged across a flaming gold and saffron tapestry that peeked through the viridian veins of green folding over her. Hues of green and yellow that created a mirror showcasing nature's beating heart. Rows upon rows of tall trees standing proud against the chill and casting a kaleidoscope of light and shadows that seemed to writhe and morph around its sole human inhabitant.

And if it had another inhabitant...she was hoping they weren't human. Humanity is its own monster.

Even when surrounded by all the beauty, she couldn't help but notice the darkness too. The shadows that pooled discreetly at the roots of the greenery seemed to be watching her, filling her with an ominous feeling that told her heart to accelerate and her gut to twist. Even when she got a good look at her surroundings, only to find nothing there but herself, she still couldn't shake off the feeling someone was watching her.

Time in the Tempus Dorm told her to trust her gut instinct. She shook her head to clear her anxiety and shook her legs, willing the fatigue to leave her sooner. Doesn't matter if someone's watching me. It could just be a hidden camera. Even if they get their helicopter, it can't land as long as I'm in the woods. I'll just keep running.

So she did. As she ran, her feet pounding on the crisp sunlight-coated grass, her spirits began to lift. She had no idea where she was going but she knew it was away from the dormitory. And as long as she kept running away from the Tempus Dorm, she'd soon reach the gates surrounding the campus. Gates that could easily be scaled.

Maybe not easily, but she was sure with a little bit of determination, she could do it. But she also should've learned that nothing goes her way in this life, especially when something seemed too good to be true.

How did she think all her foolish "plans" managed to work all this time? Obviously because in this cat and mouse game, the cat was particularly bored. One cannot enjoy a good show without letting their prey struggle a little.

That was what made the chase more enjoyable, after all.

As a result, she never saw it coming, the sharp impact of something colliding with the back of her neck. Then she began to fall, black spots swarming over her eyes once again. And this time, they marked the last she'd be knocked out.

And the last she'd be able to escape.

UNKNOWN:DIRECTORY ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ σηє ωєєк ℓαtєя

Click.

Following the quiet, yet firm click of a door closing was an equally soft, "I'm home." A tall male shredded his coat and tossed it to the side. The motion disrupted the fabric as it landed on the back of a chair, revealing a series of red stains that didn't look like they belonged on the dark fabric. He peeled off his gloves, also stained with a strange red liquid, and discarded them in the trash without a second glance. He always burned the trash in that particular bin so it didn't matter if he left evidence in there.

To an outside eye, everything looked normal at first, with the exception of his strange "I'm home" even though no one seemed to be in the apartment to greet him. At first glance, at least. Leon hummed as he retrieved the groceries he had left by the door and began washing them before he stored them in the fridge. A normal day for a normal guy living on his own. Or so it seemed.

"Sh*t, I forgot to take off my shoes," he murmured as he eyed his feet, still clad in his outdoor shoes. He took them off and placed them on the shoe rack. Then he got a rag and quickly wiped up the dirt.

Only when everything was in order did he allow himself to relax and rush into the other room. And it was in that room did the atmosphere of normalcy disappear.

It wasn't the room that was strange. It was what—no, who was in it. Surrounded by a normal bedroom with plenty of pillows and the T.V. running was a single girl sitting cross-legged on the bed. The only difference was that there was a chain around her neck and the windows were barred. The door on his way in was also locked. For her protection, he had claimed.

She didn't look up at his entrance. Neither did she say anything. Leon took her silence as an invitation for him to enter and sit down beside her. After all, the first day she'd gotten here she'd pulled out quite a few strands of his hair and broke a lot of plates. Nothing he couldn't handle.

Now she was quiet. It did make him a little sad at first to not be able to hear her sarcastic voice or her adorable attempts to try and hide her smile. But that was okay. Those things could change with time. All that mattered now was that she was safe from all the dangers around her and in an environment where he could always keep an eye on her. He's learned the hard way that sending a loved one away never ended well. His heart clenched painfully at the memory of the accident and the sight of his brother's still unresponsive body.

He wouldn't make that same mistake again. Conan would wake up. Then he'd have both his brother and (Y/n). She's always encouraged him in her own way to be more selfish, after all. Wasn't this what she wanted? For him to focus more on himself rather than living solely for his little brother?

Her eyes remained glued to the T.V. screen. The only indication she gave of sensing his presence was the subtle clenching of her jaw. Other than that, she was still.

He brushed the hair gently from her eyes, relishing in the way she no longer flinched away. Well, she refused to move or talk when she was in his company. "I'm back," he murmured. "Did anything interesting happen?"

Again, silence. He didn't mind. He tracked her gaze to the television screen. It was on the news channel where a disturbed-looking news reporter was recounting the series of bloody incidents that had gone down the week after Fortuna Institute "reopened." Countless staff and student body members had strangely disappeared and wound up dead in a matter of a single week. It was a massacre, the reporter said, and the authorities still had no idea who did it. And worse yet, the headmaster had been murdered by one of his servants.

But Leon knew the truth. Tristan had been the one to kill his father and as for the others?

That topic wouldn't make for a great bedtime story. Let's tell a different one.

He sank down to his knees in front of the (h/c)-haired girl and held her hands in his. He marveled in the way they easily disappeared in his hold and at her smooth skin, a stark contrast against his calloused and scarred ones. He had a few scars he was proud of but as for the others, he wished he could wipe them from his dark past.

He slid his metallic eyes back towards the glowing screen. A small smile lifted a corner of his mouth before his gaze returned to the (h/c)-haired girl.

"Are you pleased?" He said in a gentle tone. "I've gotten rid of everything you hate. The corrupt faculty, the school board, the bullies—everything. There's nothing left in Fortuna that can hurt you...not that you need to return there anyway."

Her eyes snapped to his eyes at those words. Her jaw clenched, an acerbic retort ready on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to her. And hate? What did he know about what she hated?

"Are you curious about what happened to those bastards?" He released her hands and stood up. She glared daggered into the ground, refusing to look at him or answer as he sat down beside her. He canted his head, an odd look entering his eye as he studied the stony expression on the (h/c)-haired female.

He delicately pressed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. "Look at me, (Y/n). Don't hide your face from me."

She averted her eyes, looking at anywhere but him. Her head was already working, the gears spinning as she took in her new surroundings and tried to devise a plan to escape again. It's what she's been doing for the past week but all her attempts had resulted in failure.

Anger crossed his face when she didn't comply. "I said, look at me." He cupped her cheek in one large palm and turned her face towards his. The irritation faded from his eyes when he took in the stubborn wiliness in her face. As much as he was in awe of the fact she could be quite the schemer, going as far as deliberately dividing up the P4, it was also just as irksome.

He didn't want her to think of such things anymore. All she had to do was stay within his grasp, somewhere he could see her at all times, and let him love her.

His voice softened when he next spoke. "Are you...scared of me?" Hesitation clung to his every word and he held his breath, awaiting her answer. Her being scared of him was the last thing he wanted. "You don't have to be scared of me, (Y/n). I'd never hurt you."

His eyes dropped to the fading bruises around her wrists and guilt clenched around his chest. "Do those still hurt...?" He tentatively reached out towards the bruises but she moved her hands away. He didn't miss her subtly lean away.

The black-haired male ran a hand through his hair, a habit he's picked up over the years. "The others are dealt with," he began. "I've finally got rid of Kim today. He's a f—uh, bloody persistent brat. You don't have to worry about them hurting you anymore, (Y/n). You're safe now."

Safe? A sharp arrow of pain lanced through her chest. Even though she didn't particularly miss the other three, she never wished death upon them. In fact, she despised Leon more for the sole crime of killing Carmen. That was a sin she'd never forgive him for.

Protection? She always wondered what exactly it was that he was so-called "protecting" her from. What were those "dangers" that were out to get her? She didn't think she was so interesting a bunch of people would want to go after her.

Or maybe the danger was herself. That was a likely story, but she doubted Leon knew much about her...situation. He didn't look like the planning and digging type—that was Tristan. He was like her in that regard.

It made her wrinkle her nose. She didn't want anything in common with the black-haired male.

"Ahh...I haven't felt this good in so long." He snaked his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. All the tension in his body evaporated with a single sigh. "I always had to keep an eye over my shoulder. Even the people around me; anyone could be a traitor. That sort of environment is stifling, you know? I'm glad I've finally resolved it all."

She felt like she was being crushed by a stone statue. His arms around her torso felt like steel bands that only constricted and never loosened. His head on her shoulder was like a heavy weight, one she so desperately wanted to tear off but didn't have the guts or strength to.

He finally lifted his head after what felt like forever but didn't release her. "Are you uncomfortable?" Instead, he pulled her to his lap and placed his head on the top of her head. "There, that's better."

She sat rigid in his embrace. Her futile attempts to free herself were, well, futile to say the least. He barely seemed to feel her struggles, only growling in playful annoyance when she kicked him and easily restrained her.

Leon felt like if he didn't hold tightly onto her, she would disappear right in front of him. The idea made his heart squeeze painfully tight and his blood freeze in his veins. If she ever ended up like his mother, hanging by her neck from the ceiling, or his brother, a living corpse on a white hospital bed with tubes attached to him...

He'd rather kill himself than let it come to that.

"Hey, (Y/n)," he whispered, his eyes hooded under thick lashes. "I did all this for you. I got this apartment in London, away from Fortuna, just for you. Those hateful people—I killed them all for you. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. Are you happy now?"

She nearly laughed out loud at the question. Scratch that—she did laugh. He looked at her in surprise as a hard laugh exploded out of her. It was neither the warm nor inviting sound he'd been expecting. In fact, it was filled with bitterness and resentment. Still, it was the first sound he's heard from her in a week, so he wasn't sure if he should be happy or worried.

It was soon proven to be the latter. "Happy?" She scoffed, her hand tightening on his arm. "Happy? Either you failed primary school and you have no idea what that word means or you're seriously deluded, my guy." She turned her head angrily, furiously bright (e/c) orbs locking with silver ones. "You expect me to thank you for taking me away from my family and killing a bunch of people?"

A wrinkle appeared between his brow as if he was genuinely confused by her tone of voice. "Aren't you? You hated them, didn't you? Knight—"

"What gives you the right to assume those things about me? You think I hate my own family?" She laughed again but this time, it wasn't an angry sound. It was a choked up one as countless emotions—ones she didn't know she even possessed—broke through her inner dam and flooded her all at once. "Sure, Tristan is arsehole supreme for pulling that crap, but I will never thank you for taking someone's life. You people are all just—"

She broke off, a sob escaping her lips. And it only made her angrier. She didn't want to give in to her weakness because by doing so, it only proved that she was still the same scared little girl from a decade ago. She refused to be that girl. But at the same time...she was that girl.

She swallowed an ugly cry and forced her words to come out without sounding choked up. "You people are all a**holes," she spat. "You basically ruin my life and make a bunch of decisions I didn't need you to make for me, and now you're asking me if I'm happy? Am I the one high on drugs or is it you?"

She hated him. She hated him with a passion. At the same time, she hated herself. If only she'd got her act together sooner, saw the signs sooner, and kept a clear head...maybe she could've accepted her past instead of running from it. And maybe then she could've saved her friends that meant the world to her. Maybe then all this wouldn't have happened.

At this point, she couldn't even hate Leon anymore. All she felt was endless, suffocating self-hatred. Her nonchalance was all a mask to hide her weakness. But masks could be easily uncovered.

And hers was.

Leon didn't look angry. He only looked concerned as he brushed the tears from her face with such gentleness that it only made her cry harder. (Y/n) was never a crier—the last time she cried was when she was a child—and this year she's shed one too many tears.

"Don't cry," he murmured as he cradled her tighter to him, shifting her head to his chest. He threaded his fingers through her hair and brushed his lips over her forehead. She trembled at the heat of his breath over her skin. "You're going to be okay, I promise you. I got you now."

Fighting was tiring, and (Y/n) felt like she's been doing so every second of her life. Her inner demons were an army of eternal darkness that never seemed to dwindle in number. And no matter how many times she employed her tactics to calm herself down, she could still feel them lurking around the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to finally break her.

She was f*cked up. And suddenly, giving up felt like an amazing idea. To stop keeping up the pretenses all the time, pretending to be okay when she really wasn't, and when she really wanted to do was scream her heart out and crawl into a dark pit, never to come out again.

The Bellua Project aimed to make monsters. Perhaps she was one, or at least the imperfect version.

(Y/n) had every intention of punishing Leon until his hand touched her face, and then she felt herself breaking all over again. The idea of giving up, putting down her weapons, and lowering her defenses felt intensely good. She wanted to relax. She wanted to feel normal again. She wanted to forget.

And Leon saw that change. With a gentle finger, he brushed away the last of her tears and reorients her face towards his. He held her gaze even though she didn't want to give it to him, and refused to let it go. The intensity of his gaze made her breath hitch and stole the last of the fight from her eyes, replacing it with a spark that only magnified as he drew closer.

His eyes dropped to her lips and with one last shuddering breath, he closed the distance between them.

She didn't feel anything as his hand weaved deeper into her hair and pressed her closer, deepening the kiss. All she felt was numbness, an eternal ice that froze her from the inside out. She didn't respond but he didn't seem to care. He broke away only to catch a breath before leaning back in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, cheeks, neck, and finally, her mouth.

Happiness made his gray orbs return back to their silver sheen. A groan rumbled through his chest and a small blush settled onto his neck. He pulled back, his entire form buzzing with joy.

"God, you're beautiful," he groaned as he brushed a lock of (h/c) hair from her face. "You have no f*cking idea how hard it was for me to control myself when I was alone with you. But that's fine now. I have you all to myself now."

"And there's no one left to f*ck that up for us." He traced her spine with his fingers, making her shiver. "So I'll ask you again, (Y/n)"—he pressed his forehead to hers, looking her directly in the eyes—"Are you happy now?"

She honestly didn't know what to feel. At least with this, she no longer felt like crying one moment and tearing someone apart the other. Emotions were painful, but she wouldn't go so far as to call them a hassle as a certain someone would. Though she was glad the numbness kept them all at bay.

So, was she happy? She didn't know. She certainly didn't feel joy but neither did she feel anything else. All she wanted to do was disappear.

"You're so mean, (N/n)!"

Clarity seeped back into her eyes as a memory suddenly floated up in front of her eyes. Memories of her life as it should've been, back in her little world with her friends. Memories of her playfully bullying a certain redhead and making him fake cry. Memories of him stealing her food and her retaliating with a pillow thrown to the face.

And that gave her enough strength to pull herself out of her pity party, forcing herself to climb out of the hole she dug herself even if it pained her to do so.

She smacked Leon's hand away with narrowed eyes. "Obviously not. If I had to describe what I'm feeling in one word—well, I can't. I'm bloody pissed, to say the least."

Astonishment flickered over his face as she wiped her mouth with a scowl and pushed at him. "You never listen to me," she seethed. "But at the same time, you claim to have my best interests in heart. I call bullsh*t. You do not understand how much I hate you right now, Leon. In fact"—she jabbed a finger in his chest, her anger growing exponentially by the second—"I wish I've never met you guys."

"Hate...me?" His eyes widened in hurt and disbelief at her bluntness. He didn't budge even as she began to try and pull his arms away from her. "Impossible. You're lying. You don't hate me." A broken look appeared on his face, coupled with a faltering smile. "You don't...do you?"

She opened her mouth to respond but he didn't let her cut in a single word. All of a sudden, he was angry. Anger burned through his veins and left scorch marks under his skin. His breaths ran ragged as he seized her arms, making her let out a startled yelp in pain.

"What more do you want from me?!" He roared, shaking her harshly. His eyes were wild with fury. "I'm willing to give you anything—anything you want. I've done everything I can for you, but you still want more?! What the f*ck do you want?"

"Ow—Leon, that hurts!" Pain exploded in her arms as his fingers dug into her skin. Any tighter and she was sure something would break. "Leon, let go of me!"

But he didn't seem to hear her. He continued watching her expressions change until a strange look crossed his face and made him deflate. He shook his head slowly, a hoarse laugh slipping out of him.

"Could it be...you're not lying?" He voiced hesitantly. "You...truly hate me?"

The look in her eyes was the answer he needed. Leon began to chuckle, a low and dark sound. "I get it. I'm always losing the people dear to me, aren't I?"

He drew her closer easily despite her struggles and cradled her in an almost gentle embrace. "I get it," he said again like it was a mantra. "I f*cking get it."

"I promised to get rid of everything you hate after all."

She felt her heart stop as she heard a familiar sound of something click behind her. No. He couldn't be. "Leon, what are you—"

But he was. A sad smile graced his lips as he pressed them for the final time onto hers, muffling her cry. With his free hand, he stroked her cheek and ran his eyes over her face as if burning them into memory.

"I f*cking love you, (Y/n)," he murmured. "I won't lose you to anyone. We'll be together for a long time."

Panic began to grow inside her as she felt him press something to the back of her head. "Leon, stop!" She screamed, thrashing in his arms, her heartbeat accelerating when he didn't even flinch. "We can sort this out another way, okay? Just please—"

He silenced her with a finger on her lips. "Shh," he whispered. "I don't want to see you scared. Never of me."

"NO—!"

She felt the blood before the pain. A warm liquid pooled at the back of her head and her scream was cut off short. Her face, a picture of shock with her mouth in a perfect circle, a silent scream for any witnesses that might cross her path.

The last thing she saw before the black waves folded over her eyes was the image of his sad smile as he pressed the barrel to his temple.

Bang.