A/N: Penultimate chapter! So I heard you liked arguments, so I present to you, Arguments, part 2. All this is in Liam's POV.
Sweetest Kill
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The morning sunlight swamped the room through the tall windows, wrapping its soft fingers over the bed, over her figure. I walked slowly towards the bed, drinking in the scene.
She is with me. She is near me. She can't leave.
A single monitor flashed details of her vitals; the nurse had probably come and given her her medications, as the IV drip line was hanging by its rubber tubing from the stand by her bed. She was lying on her side, curled up among the pillows, away from the screen and the needles, if not wanting to see those things. As I came closer, I noticed that she was writing something. Noticing me, she shoved the papers and the pen aside. Something like a scowl flashed across her face, as she sat up properly.
"Good morning, Liam. Were you busy with someone last night? Or afraid to face me after you had me bought in?"
"It's neither of those," I replied. "I just thought it would be better if you were left alone to rest."
"And, this is where you bring me 'to rest'." she remarked acidly. "In the same room you kept your dear father? Do you hate me that much?"
"Don't think like that," I replied, pulling the armchair closer to her bed. "This room is on the ground floor, it's easily accessible... this is actually the best room in the house."
I sat down on the sofa, hunched, my elbows on my knees, resting my chin on top of my crossed fingers, and looked up at her. She still sat, facing straight, away from me. I watched her fingers gently run over the cannula on her hand, watched the little movement of her throat as she swallowed...
"I know what this room means to you," she started. "And knowing that, you cannot say you put me here because you care about me. You just care about yourself. You want something out of this, don't you?"
It was getting harder and harder to control my tone, but I had decided to bear whatever she threw at me. I had to.
"Fine. Think what you want," I replied. "But what I honestly want, is you to be healthy and safe."
Her face scrunched up in mock laughter. "Healthy? Under your roof? Safe? With you?" She covered her face with her hands, as if trying to stop herself from derailing into madness. "Why didn't you let my parents take me away?" she asked, still not looking at me.
"I talked to them, and they thought that it was best to let you stay here," I replied calmly.
"Oh Liam..." she cooed contemptuously, "don't think I don't know how you did it. You read them like a book, and hit it where it hurt. You made them feel guilty about kicking me out - made them feel that they were not even worthy to take care of their only child anymore."
Now I smiled. "Are you even listening to yourself? You sound crazy."
A grim smile spread across her face as she turned around to face me. She was frightening me, with her words, with her attitude, with her thoughts... She was nothing like meek little rabbit that I loved so much... Or was she?
"I had seen my mom when she came to tell me that I'd be staying with you," she said softly, her eyes locking onto mine. "I remember how she looked, Liam, I felt it through her... you had ripped her apart."
"And?" I snapped back, not being able to keep the edge off anymore. I was done parrying her attacks. "Tell me honestly Kim, should they have done that? Did they call you even once while you were with me? They don't deserve-"
"And you deserve me?" she cut in.
"I took care of you," I said, gritting my teeth, returning her glare with an equal force.
"You used me!"
"I took care of you, you brat. You were the one jumping off cliffs like a lemming at every other chance. You're lucky this all happened with me, Kim, no one else would have-"
She raised a hand, as if to shut me up. "Your tricks don't work on me anymore, Liam," she said, her voice rising steadily. "I've survived through all your mind games, and I'm still here. Admit it, you only kept me for yourself."
"I took care of you," I repeated, trying to calm myself. "You gave yourself willingly. You said it yourself!"
"Because at that time, that was all I had. You would've turned me out if I hadn't, wouldn't you?"
Now she actually seemed on the verge of hysteria. There was a note in her voice, that revealed a hurt, a fear I hadn't seen her show before. I felt slightly shocked.
"Never. I'd never do that," I said quietly. Her gaze fell away from mine, as she bent down into her lap, covering her head with her arms.
We were quiet for a while. She let out something that sounded like a quiet sob, and got up, her face now oddly expressionless.
"I've seen and heard how you behave with others," said Kim. "Tell me Liam, how was I supposed to guess you wouldn't do the same?"
I seethed slightly, angry that she thought so little of me. "Should have trusted me, right?"
"I did," she replied. "And we all know how that turned out."
I couldn't argue with that. I looked down at the floor. What do I do...
"I am still here," I said quietly. "I will still take care of you."
"I don't want your care any more. Let me go, Liam. I don't want to see you."
What is she saying? Why was she being so difficult? Why couldn't she just forget-
"Okay," I acquiesced. "I won't bother you. You won't see me. But please... just stay here until the baby is born. If not for me, then for my mom. After that.. you can go wherever you want. You'll be free."
We looked up, and stared at each other for a while. Her lower lip trembled, and all I wanted to do was feel it between my teeth as I kissed her deeply, my arms around her body...
"Get out," she whispered.
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"Liam."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw my mother standing at the door of the living room. I was lying on the couch, trying to
think
, but nobody seemed to be giving me any time to do that anyway... I looked at her, slightly vexed, but didn't reply.
She stepped into the room, looking down at the floor. For a second, she looked sad.
"Liam. Are you listening?"
Now I looked at her pointedly. She saw my reaction and sighed. She sat down opposite me, neatly locking her ankles, feet withdrawn below the couch, hands folded and resting on her lap. She always looked as though she needed to be more subservient, to atone for some crime she committed ages ago...
"Does she want to go back?" she asked gently.
"Do you want her to?" I shot back, not rudely.
"Of course not-" she said, quickly shaking her head. "It's just that she was so insistent, and suddenly her parents say something else- I don't understand... I am just afraid."
"For?"