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It had been a week...
A full, entire week, and nothing.
No call.
No text.
Not even an email.
When she'd left...Nina had been so angry with him. Bastian knew this. Which was why he'd been more than understand of her demand for space when she'd made it clear that she would call him. But it had been a week, already. Not only had she not returned. Nina hadn't even called him like she said she would. And this knot in the pit of his stomach hadn't left him since the moment she'd walked out that door.
...with him...
With Johan.
Nina's brother was so hell-bent on doing whatever it would take to keep the truth from her. Who knew what sort of scheme he was planning? What he was really up to.
Bastian didn't know...
And that was possibly the worst thing about this whole entire situation.
Bastian simply couldn't trust that Nina was safe with her brother.
He'd wanted to check in with her. So many times. From the very moment she'd left, all he could think about was calling her. In fact, he'd been climbing the walls and practically crawling out of his skin. And now..?
Now it wasn't a matter of want. Now he needed to.
Bastian needed to make sure that she was okay.
At the very least...he needed to hear her voice.
And-under the circumstances and given the length of time-he knew that she would understand. Even if she were still angry with him.
Despite his resolve, Bastian found himself pacing their living-room, arguing with himself over what he'd actually say to her-when he called.
Would he finally tell her the truth about her brother..?
Could he..?
Would that even make a difference now?
Would it bring her back home?
Roughly clutching his phone in the palm of his large hand, Bastian decided that it didn't matter at all. What he said. What he told her.
...all that mattered was that he just call, and make sure that Nina was okay...
Bracing himself, Bastian held his breath as he pressed Nina's number. If he could just hear her voice... Holding the device to his ear, the phone rang.
...and it rang...
...and rang...
“Come on, Nina.” Bastian hissed to himself as his heart pounded in his chest. “Just pick up the phone.” His lips quivered as the only thing he heard was the dial tone. “...please...” This came pulled from him in desperation as Bastian began to lose hope.
That was...
...until...
He heard a familiar voice answer the line.
'...hello...'
The sound of her voice came so strange-so tired and strained on the other end of the line. But, all the same, a very physical wave of relief washed over Bastian as an audible sigh pushed through his nose as his own voice trailed behind.
“Nina.” He breathed, his hand coming to his mouth to stifle such strong emotions.
'Bastian...' The voice on the other end of the line delicately murmured his name as Bastian's heart skipped a beat. 'I thought I said that I would call you.' Bastian's brows furrowed at this, though he wasn't at all surprised that she'd reminded him.
“I know.” Bastian sighed into the phone, his eyes focused on nothing in particular as he spoke. “But you haven't called.” He said, trying so desperately not to sound like he was accusing her. “And I've been worried.” Bastian admitted without hesitation, meaning absolutely every single word.
Yet there was only silence over the line.
Crippling.
Deafening.
Silence.
That was, until Nina deigned to respond.
'...why..?' This question came so harsh-so blunt-that Bastian physically flinched. 'Why would you be worried now?'
Bastian's heart sank to the bottom of his stomach when he heard her say this. She had every right to still be angry with him. He knew that. Accepted it, even. But... It still felt so very unfair.
“Of course I'm worried, Nina.” Bastsian said in a lower, more gentle tone. “I care about you.” He murmured into the phone as his free hand roughly brushed down the back of his neck while he paced around the main living area of their home.
'...you care about me...' Nina's lovely voice came so strangely empty through the other end of the line. 'Really?' This came out a bit rough as Bastian continued to listen, not saying a word. 'And where was all of this concern when Johan told you he was going to kill himself?'
That stung.
And if felt unfair.
So very unfair.
Bastian tried to bight his tongue, and curb his emotions, but he simply couldn't help the pain that flowed through his voice.
“That's not fair, Nina.” He said with an edge to his words. “I tried to tell you.” He said. “So many times.”
'But you didn't.' The voice on the other end of the line interrupted. 'I had to hear it from him.' Nina's voice cut through him like nothing at all as Bastian remained silent. 'He's doing better, by the way. This place seems to be doing him a lot of good.' She said, a brief pause before starting in on him again. 'Since you care so much.'
“Nina.” Bastian groaned into the phone.
The last thing he'd wanted to do was rehash this whole incident, and start a fight, just to hurt her.
“How many times can I say that I'm sorry?” He snapped with an edge, feeling himself stretched to his limit. “How many times, Nina-” Bastian said with the raise of his voice. “before you believe me.”
'And that's the problem, Bastian.' He heard the voice on the other end of the line harshly scold him. 'I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to believe you.'
Bastian absorbed these painful words as they hit full-force like a sledge hammer to his heart. He'd broken Nina's trust in him. He knew that. But something about this whole entire conversation felt so very wrong. So off. As if Nina weren't really herself. Nina would have never spoken to him like this. Nina would have never been so hurtful.
“Nina, look-” Bastian began, pausing with a hard swallow before beginning again. “I know I've made an awful mistake.” He spoke these words through a level of desperation. “I get that. But I never meant to hurt you.” Bastian said. “You have to believe me.”
'No, Bastian. I really don't.' This came in sharp reproach as Bastian furrowed his brows.
Something was definitely wrong...
...Nina would never talk like this...
Not even if she were angry.
“Nina-” Bastian firmly spoke her name as he continued to pace their living-room. “what exactly is going on here?” He asked, pausing in his step and word before he continued again. “Are you okay?” His voice took on a worried tone as his brows furrowed to match. “Because you sound-” Bastian paused in hesitation. “different.” He finally said, because that was the only word he could think of to describe how Nina was actually behaving right now.
It wasn't right.
He could feel it.
And a silent pause was the only reply he received for the longest moment-save for Nina's delicate breath-before she deigned to actually answer his accusation.
'...maybe I am different, Bastian...' This came lightly murmured into his ear from the phone as his brows knit together. 'Having my trust broken will do that.' Nina quipped in a cold tone that Bastian didn't even recognize.
“Nina, please-” Bastian's voice came pained as his features crumpled into a dismal expression. “you said Johan is doing better, right?” This fell from his lips in a hushed tone. “So maybe you could come home now.” He said, eyes to the ground as his hand brushed down the back of his neck while he continued to pace. “And we could talk about this, you know? Try to work things out between us.”
'I don't know when I'll be coming back. Soon, probably.' Nina's voice paused, then lilted in an almost lifeless tone. 'But I'm not sure if I'll be coming home.'
Batian felt his heart stutter.
Then skip a beat.
“What exactly are you saying..?” Bastian slowly asked as this nauseating sense of dread thickened in the pit of his stomach.
'I can't be with someone I don't trust, Bastian.'
He froze in his pacing of their apartment when he heard this.
And then...
Bastian felt his heart stop all together.
“No.” Bastian practically gasped, as if he'd just had the wind knocked out of him. “No, no, no, please-” He whimpered into the phone as tears began to well at the corners of his eyes. “don't do this, Nina.” He begged in desperation as a fist came placed along his lips in order to muffle and curb the choked sobs lodged in his throat. “Please don't do this.”
'I didn't do this.' The voice on the other end of the line spoke in an icy tone. 'You did.'
…
“Goodbye, Bastian...” This came so softly whispered into the phone in such a delicately feminine lilt.
The broken sobs and desperate cries of a voice that begged and pleaded could be heard from the receiver before they were heartlessly cut off when the call was abruptly ended. A delicate, pale hand placed the cellphone along the top of the dresser as a faint sigh caressed the sudden silence that had followed the end of the conversation.
“Oh, I did try to warn you...” A shuttered, breathy sigh parted thin lips before they attractively flattened into a taut line. “You break my sister's heart.-” These words came with the dramatic drop of the voice to a deeper, more masculine-yet still refined-tenor. “and I rip yours from your chest.”
And...
...judging by the broken, anguished sound of Bastian's voice...
Johan had accomplished just that.
As pale blue eyes lifted to meet his own reflection in the mirror attached to the dresser, Johan smiled in triumph.
The breaking of Bastian's heart had been so loud that Johan felt as if he'd heard it all the way from where he was right now. And-somehow-it had been so very...vindicating.
...the man had deserved it-this pain...
And Johan was satisfied that he'd successfully eradicated another-potentially dangerous-variable from his sister's life.
A soft knock on the threshold of the open door caused Johan to turn his face from the mirror as those cold eyes met the figure looming just outside of the room. Johan gave the single, elegant lift of a brow to the man who stared back at him through his wire-rim glasses and a withered-world weary-expression. Clearly, the old man wasn't planning on entering the room anytime soon. Johan gave a sigh of exasperation to this as he all but rolled his eyes at the man.
“Yes..?”
“You wanted to be notified when everything was ready.” The old man spoke through a staunch tone lacking warmth or eagerness.
“And..?” This came with an edge of impatience, though Johan's expression remained passive and unmoved.
“And-” The old man spared Johan a pointed look. “we're finally ready to begin.”
Another smile began to blossom along Johan's lips when he heard this. Grasping his sister's phone from the dresser, he neatly tucked it into the pocket of his blazer as he moved towards the threshold of the open door in an elegant stride, readying himself to leave with the old man, his voice coming a honeyed thrum.
“Excellent.”
THE END
...of sanity...
