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“And this is revenge.”
The scissors slowly dragged out from his abdomen, along with a disgusting squelching sound. Blood now coated the blades of the makeshift weapon. Shock was visible in every part of Vegas’ expression as he gradually slid down to the ground, his regretful eyes never leaving the one who did this to him. Pete glanced at the man slowly dying beneath him and he sneered before crouching down to his level.
“You didn’t expect that, did you?” he said, his voice low but filled with rage.
He momentarily rubbed his wrist that was now free from the large chains that held him in place for more than a month. Pete had secretly found the scissors lost under one of the drawers a week ago. And for a week, he kept the thing hidden under the mattress, out of Vegas’ sight, as he waited for the right opportunity to use it. It was rusty and old, but with the force Pete used, it could still poke through Vegas’ skin and made him bleed.
Everything Pete couldn’t say the past few days, all the curse words and true feelings he had inside, turned into harsh sentences that spat out of his mouth uncontrollably. He couldn’t stop himself anymore, and he didn’t want to either.
“Did you really think that I, a human being you forcefully fucked up and used like a toy, would fall in love with you? Are you really that much of an idiot, you fucking bastard?” Pete drawled his words, letting each of them stab Vegas in the heart. He grabbed a fistful of Vegas’ hair, just like what Vegas would do to Pete before, and he yanked Vegas’ head closer to him with a glare. “You’re a monster. You’re wicked. Vile. No one is ever going to love someone like you, Vegas. Especially not me.”
Vegas gaped at him, his lips quivering as he said, “Pete, wha—what did you do?”
“Giving you what you deserve,” Pete said, the tone of his voice emotionless. He let go of Vegas’ hair and stood back up again.
Despite Pete’s indifferent expression, it was just a façade. The reality was that his fingers wouldn’t stop shaking and he kept worrying his lower lip. Inside his mind, he was constantly reminding himself of his goal during the beginning of his time in captivity. He kept repeating in his brain over and over again what he should do—the right thing—and not what he and his foolish heart wished for.
This was what Pete wanted... right? Right?
All those dreadful weeks of being helplessly stuck inside this bedroom slowly cultivated into the intense desire to kill the man he despised the most. Pete wanted this to happen. I wanted this, I wanted this, I wanted this. Pete chanted the words in his brain like a prayer to Buddha. He wanted himself to be happy that he was finally free. He should be. But alas, his logical brain and his ever-emotional heart were clashing once again.
‘I need to run before Nop gets here,’ he thought to himself, dropping the scissors to the ground beside Vegas. He forced his hands to stop trembling. Wiping the tears off the corners of his eyes, he was about to head towards the wardrobe to get some clothes when Vegas suddenly spoke. That made him pause.
“P-Pete... I’m sorry again. I really am. I’m so, so sorry,” he heard Vegas whisper. His voice was gentle, almost as if he wasn’t about to bleed to death. “I still love you, okay? I love you so much, Pete.”
Too late.
You’re too goddamn late.
He wanted to get out of there fast. He wanted to get away before he could change his mind. Before he could let Vegas’ genuine tears and pleads affect him. Before he could attempt to go heal Vegas’ wound and say that he actually loves Vegas back. Before he could go off in a fantasy universe in his head where the two of them could actually love each other. As if they really could.
Pete cursed at his own empathy. He already knew how stupid it was to actually catch feelings for this bastard. But in the end, before he could stop himself from falling, it already happened.
Just last night, he kept thinking that he wouldn’t be able to do this plan. Chaos conflicted his own thoughts so much that he couldn’t even sleep. Vegas was the person who tortured him. He detested Vegas but for some reason, he learned to love him over time. He learned of Vegas’ true life, his problems with his father and how much of a scarred child he was. He himself saw Vegas fall weak and cry in front of him.
How could Pete ever hurt a human being like that?
But somehow, he actually managed to do just that. He became a likely murderer in exchange of his own freedom. Whether it was worth it or not, he still had no idea. All he knew was one thing.
‘There is no turning back now.’
Pete breathed out a long heavy sigh before quickly changing his blood-stained sweatpants and then grabbing a few banknotes from Vegas’ wallet. While he did his business, he tried his best not to look at the dying man so he wouldn’t get distracted.
Vegas, on the other hand, never took his eyes off the man he loved. His ears were still ringing from all the painful yet truthful words that Pete told him. As he felt blood dripping from his hand that was putting pressure on his own wound, he continued watching Pete who was swiftly running around the room in slight panic.
From there, Vegas finally noticed the exhaustion painted on Pete’s face. He was too tired already. His eyes that were filled with anger just a minute ago looked so desolate now. And Vegas knew it was because of himself. This was all his fault, after all.
‘No matter how evil I am, I would never hurt the feelings of someone I love.’ Vegas had said those words to someone else before. It was a true statement at the time. And yet, he did exactly that. He hurt the man he came to love.
Vegas wished he had the ability to turn back the time. He prayed so hard for someone up there to give him the power to take it all back so he could love Pete from the very beginning. To erase all the wounds and scars he had inflicted on him. To become a better person that deserved to have someone as incredible as Pete as his lover.
If only it was that easy.
He was losing even more blood now, but he kept his eyes on Pete and telling him everything he wanted for Pete to hear. Vegas sounded so desperate—his voice tinged with despair and longing—and he really was.
“I truly regret everything, Pete. I’m really sorry. You never deserved that,” said Vegas, ignoring the throbbing pain that stung his lower abdomen.
All he cared about was the man he loved. He slowly crawled closer to Pete who had just finished putting on one of Vegas’ clean white shirts. As he approached, Vegas thought to himself about how Pete still looked handsome, especially in his own clothes. He gazed at Pete’s messy black hair, his dark brown eyes, and his tall height.
What would happen to him if he won’t be able to see those perfect features of Pete anymore? How could Vegas even live without Pete’s bright smile? How could he live without seeing Pete’s occasional pouts and complaints, or watching him eat and talk?
This man was now his world. And now, it was all crumbling to shattered pieces because of him. How much must he have to repent for all the mistakes he’s done?
“Don’t leave me, please,” he pleaded again, hands suddenly clutching on to Pete’s leg like a begging child. “Pete, don’t leave me. I don’t know what I’ll do without you. How will I be able to live?”
“Figure it out on your own,” Pete coldly replied.
“Fine... Okay. It’s fine if I die. I know I deserve that. B-but just stay with me for a while, will you? I’m so sorry for being selfish. I just want you here with me.”
“Stop it, Vegas. Let go of me!” Pete gritted his teeth. He grabbed the rusty scissors from the ground and pointed it at Vegas’ stomach. “Get your hands off me if you don’t want me to stab your wound again. And this time, I’ll make sure you’ll stay dead.”
Pete had no plans of actually doing that though. But suddenly, Vegas placed his other hand on Pete’s and pulled the scissors even closer to his wound, its sharp tip pointed directly at the damaged area. Pete’s eyes widened slightly, eyebrows furrowing in surprise at Vegas’ actions.
“Do it, Pete. Stab me. I’d rather die than not have you in my life.”
“Don’t fucking test me, Vegas.”
“Then just do it.” Vegas’ lips curled into a bittersweet smile. “End my suffering now.”
Pete scoffed. Narrowing his eyes at him, he said, “Now you’re begging for death? Hell no. If I had the time, I would’ve even tortured you, too. How does it feel? Now you’re experiencing what you did to me for so many weeks.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Just shut up.”
“I know you won’t stay. But can you do one more thing for me before you leave?”
“What more do you even want?”
Vegas’ smile dropped and he looked up at Pete with such intensity that the latter almost forgot to breathe for a moment. Their visions connected, Vegas’ eyes roaming over Pete’s figure as if he was trying to memorize his whole presence. He sat up, still clutching on his wound, and spoke the next sentence with determination.
“Kiss me, Pete.”
“What...?”
Pete looked down at Vegas whose gaze was nearly hypnotizing him. Suddenly, for a moment, he recalled about the time when Vegas kissed him and made love to him properly for the first time. A small shiver ran down his spine from the abrupt memory.
“Kiss me,” Vegas said, softer this time.
‘Don’t do it,’ the rational side of Pete said. ‘We both know how easy he can manipulate you now, don’t we?’ His mind was clouded, his common sense thrown out of the window. ‘But why not? The man might die. Can’t you do what he asks, at least? It’s Vegas. You love him. You’ve got nothing else to lose,’ Pete’s emotional side argued.
Just as he was about to fly away, Pete fell again. How fragile. Yet how human of him. It was Pete’s flaw, but it was also something that made him special. He cursed under his breath when he finally knew the decision he came to.
He ran a hand through his hair before muttering, “Screw it.”
In an instant movement, their lips met at the same time. Pete quickly crouched down, kneeling in front of Vegas, and cupping his face with his palms. His eyes closed as he finally allowed himself to feel for the last time. He tilted his head, tongue exploring the other’s. Vegas moved his mouth against his as if they had all the time in the world to themselves. Tears flowed from his eyes before he could stop them.
Unlike the ones that preceded it, this kiss was slow. Passionately but sorrowfully slow. It was a kiss that both of them knew they would never forget. A kiss so unique it was going to be imprinted in Pete’s memories before he could even realize. In just one kiss, Pete could taste the sweetness of Vegas’ lips, the saltiness of his tears, and the bitterness of the fact that this was possibly their last kiss.
When they finally pulled apart, Vegas gently leaned his forehead against Pete’s. The latter didn’t move away, his lips still quivering from the impact the kiss did to him. Their warm breaths mixed in together in the small distance between them. And in that moment, Vegas whispered to him everything he wanted to say.
Most of what Vegas had said won’t be shown here, for they were only made for Pete’s ears—the yearning confessions of a dying lover. But one of the most prominent words Vegas had spoken were two stuttered sentences in a form of a wish.
“I wish we were normal people,” he murmured, each word that came out of his mouth entangled with such heartache. “I wish we can just love each other normally.”
Maybe in another life, Vegas. But not this one.
The clock was ticking. Pete felt so lightheaded that he didn’t even know how much time passed while they kissed. However, he was a little glad that the bodyguards in the minor clan’s house were all dumb and had no clue that their boss was about to die at any given moment. Well, all of them except for one.
Before Pete could even reply to everything Vegas told him, he heard the sound of the glass door screeching. Nop, the same bodyguard who would always deliver food to Pete every day, suddenly opened the door to the bedroom. Pete stood up and faced him. Nop’s eyes instantly widened when he finally registered what happened.
“Boss Vegas! Pete, what have you done?!”
“Nop, let me go already,” Pete softly said towards the stunned bodyguard. “Just think that this is the last thing you can do for me. Please...”
The bodyguard frantically looked back and forth at his boss and the freed prisoner before he sighed. Then he said, “Do what you have to do. I’ll give you just one minute. But after this, I have to do my job,” before turning around until his back was facing them.
Without hesitating, Pete walked across the room and opened the sliding doors that led to the second-floor terrace. There was only silence except for the sound of his quick footsteps on the floor, the wind outside that welcomed him the second he opened the door, and the almost audible pulse of his pounding heart.
Somewhere inside Pete, there was a part of him that hoped—really hoped—that the bodyguard would be able to get Vegas in the hospital soon and heal his wound. He knew how wrong it was to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. Even though he didn’t want to see Vegas again, if he knew that he survived, it would make him feel a little better.
Before he could step out of the door, Pete turned back to the other bodyguard who was now watching over Vegas. The dying man was still looking at Pete, tears streaming across his cheeks, but his eyes were filled with tenderness. Filled with love. Pete felt himself tear up again just from the sight of Vegas’ face. A mixture of adrenaline and misery made Pete’s heart beat so fast it almost felt like it was going to burst out.
“Please take care of him. For me.”
That was the last thing he said to them. No matter how much he hoped, he had no idea if he would be able to meet Vegas again after this. But Pete was a good person, and inside, he really wanted Vegas to live. Unbeknownst to him though, those were also the same last words that Vegas heard in his lifetime.
And then Pete ran to the balcony, and he never looked back.