The Pretty Psycho (St. Vasili’s Academy #2)

21. Adrian

21

ADRIAN

My heart thundered in my chest as I pushed outside the training room, wincing at the sound of her sobbing as I left her behind. Trying desperately to run away from this feeling, this heaviness inside my body just as she ran from me. Was I too harsh on her or too unforgiving for telling her all those things, for telling her I was done?

Maybe.

But there was only so much I could do to make her see, to make her accept that she was it for me. I refused to beg her for anything, even if it killed me to walk away. The ball was in her court now and if she truly wanted this, then she had to show me. She had to give something as well, because I couldn't be the only one willing to sacrifice everything just to hold her in my arms.

I just wished it didn't hurt this much. I just wished it didn't feel as if I was going to faint with every new step I took, trying to erase the panic I saw in her eyes when those words tumbled over my lips. But I couldn't fucking be the only one fighting and fighting. I was exhausted. My heart was too raw for her to keep stomping on it every single time something went wrong.

I was amused at the blatant jealousy shining in her eyes before she left, but it didn't take me long to see the pattern forming with us. Something would happen and she would run without trying to listen to what I had to say. She always thought the worst of me, fighting me every step of the way, and love… Love wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to be easy, I knew that much, but it wasn't supposed to be this painful either. It wasn't supposed to have only one person fighting for it, while the other one did everything in their power to find all the things that could go wrong.

Maybe I had fooled myself into thinking that she was my soulmate. Maybe, just maybe, we could have more than one soulmate and she wasn't it for me. My desire to keep her, to love her, to show her what a good life we could have together had maybe blinded me from seeing the issues we had.

Our relationship started with a lie, and that's where the problem was. Everything had happened so fast and with everything else happening around us, neither one of us had any time to breathe and think. I tried. I maybe even tried too hard to prove that I could be the one she could turn to when things got rough, but it was obvious to me that she didn't want the same things.

I understood trauma, maybe even better than most. Granted, I couldn't understand what she went through as I had never gone through something like that, but I thought we were making progress. I thought we understood each other. I thought that last night was a start of something new, of us opening up to each other, of her seeing what this could be.

She said so many times that she wasn't going to let Tyler, Dain, whatever the fuck his name now was, tear us apart. She didn't have to, I guess, because she was doing a fucking fantastic job of destroying us herself.

My hand landed on her name on my pec, feeling the little stabs of pain every time my fingers ran over the letters she left me with. Her actions had filled me with so much joy, elation, and need. Because no one had ever looked at me the way she did when she branded me as hers. But I didn't want her brand if she would only be okay with us being together in that little cabin, while the rest of the world stood outside, far away from us.

It’s her move to make now and if she felt that she truly didn't want me, then I would let her go. I would fucking let her be free even if it killed me.

"Adrian?" Dimitri's voice broke through the mess in my head, coming up from behind me. I slowly turned around, seeing his worried face. He didn't need my words to understand that something was wrong. He didn't need me to tell him that the girl I loved couldn't even stand to stay and talk to me when shit got heavy and our pasts caught up with our present.

My head shook as my eyes closed, unable to see the pity in Dimitri's eyes, too fucking raw about the rejection after rejection from the one person I wanted to see me. I needed her to fucking see me, to feel the same things as I did, and she didn't want it.

God, this slicing pain through my chest better be a fucking heart attack and not the sign of a broken heart, because I couldn't take it.

"She doesn't want me, Dima," I rasped, hating how broken my voice sounded. "She." I shuddered. "She would rather run than talk to me, you know?" I chuckled brokenly. "And I can't chase her constantly. I… I tried, man. I tried everything, from my words to my actions, everything!" I bellowed, letting the pain of what just happened seep through every single word as I slid down the wall, pressing the back of my head against the hard surface.

I wasn't going to be yet another person forcing her to do something that was not in her best interest, and if being with me wasn't something she wanted, then she could fuck right off. She could be free like she always wanted to be.

It was obvious to me now that I needed her more than she needed me. From the very beginning it should've been obvious that she could stand to be separated, while I could barely sit here because my body wanted me to go back there and apologize for the words I let slip through my lips.

But I wasn't going to apologize for hitting her with the hard truth, even if said hard truth slashed straight through my middle, letting me bleed right there in that fucking training room.

Dimitri closed the distance between us and sat down on the ground with his eyes plastered to my profile. "What happened?" he asked in a whisper, almost as if he was scared of what I would say.

What happened? That was a million-dollar question, wasn't it?

"What happened is that she keeps running from me, Dima," I said, staring at the blank spot on the wall opposite of us. "What happened is that she would rather believe in the lies her mind conjures than asking me to clarify anything."

"Is this about the kiss from earlier?"

"I don't think so," I huffed, closing my eyes. "I think that the kiss earlier was just the cherry on top of a fucked-up cake. Don't get me wrong." I looked at him. "I know it seemed terrible, but I was pushing Estelle away. I wasn't kissing her, dammit."

"And Vega thinks you did."

"Vega thinks that it's okay running like a fucking coward instead of talking like a grown-ass person. She always does this. Always. I can't be with her if she doesn't want this. I can't spend days thinking that the next time we have an argument she will run instead of letting me explain shit."

Dimitri took a deep breath. "I know," he murmured. "I mean, I don't know her well enough. None of us really do, but it's obvious that she went through some fucked-up shit in her life."

"Haven't we all?" I bit out. "Going through fucked-up shit is not a 'get out of jail free' card we can use every time we are behaving like assholes toward those that care about us. Should we all use that excuse and behave like fuckfaces?" I was getting angrier by the second, and this conversation wasn't helping.

Justifying the way she behaved just because she had a terrible life was almost hypocritical. All of us had fucked-up lives. I did not know a single person currently at the Academy that had a perfect life. We all had our traumas, our demons to fight, but I did not know anyone else who used it all as an excuse.

Nah, we owned it. I knew what a fuckup I was and I knew what I was capable of, but I never blamed it on the life I’d led. I had never blamed all the shit I pulled on my mommy and daddy issues. And if she was going to use that as an excuse, then she was a child that I didn't want to deal with. If her emotional maturity could not comprehend that there were people out here who were willing to destroy the world for her, just to see her happy, then she could take all those excuses and get the fuck out of here the moment we’d dealt with my father and The Schatten.

"Okay, you've got a point there," Dimitri finally agreed with me after seemingly contemplating my words for a second. "By the way." His eyes moved to the side of my head. "You're kinda bleeding."

"I know," I huffed. "She cut me." My hand lifted up absentmindedly, rubbing against the cut on my ear that was still slowly bleeding.

"She what?" Dimitri's eyes all but bulged outside of his head. "Seriously?"

"She was throwing knives," I murmured, dropping my hand over my knee. "I stepped in front of the target, willing her to talk to me, to stop throwing a tantrum like a fucking child, so she threw a knife at me." It would've been better if she had killed me. It would've hurt less than me realizing that she wasn't going to budge, not after she threw that knife.

She cut me deliberately, but I would never be able to do anything like that to her, not even when I was at my angriest. If it was easier for her to hide behind all that anger and all that pain she clung on to, then maybe I should stop trying.

I wasn’t faultless in this situation. I know… I know there were things I did thinking I was protecting her, and maybe I wasn’t listening. Maybe I was too stubborn for my own good, but I didn’t try to run. I didn’t try to hide from her.

I knew how hard it was letting go of all those old habits and old fears, but you had to want to work on yourself. You had to be willing to change something, otherwise you would stay the same your entire life, and the whole point of being alive wasn't just about going through the motions, but actually evolving, learning and allowing yourself to make mistakes from time to time.

"I wanted to be her anchor, Dimitri. I wanted her to feel safe with me, but I can't force her. I would never force her. That's not what this is about."

"I know, man."

"And if she doesn't want it." I shrugged. "I guess I need to pull back. I need to let her breathe." His eyes searched mine, his feelings on the topic obvious even without him having to say it. He agreed with me, but he understood her too, and I started regretting getting involved with her as well, because there was no way for me to lose her without losing Arseniy and Dimitri in the process. "But anyway," I started, ready to erase the pain at least for a little while. "I think I'm going to head into the sparring room and get some of this energy out of me. Wanna come?"

"I wish," he grunted, getting up from the ground at the same time as me. "But I don't think either one of us will be sparring right now."

"W-What?" I looked at him, confused beyond measure. "Why?"

"Because a package has arrived," he said, letting the anger wash over his features. "And it's been addressed to you."

"To me?" I pointed at myself. And then it dawned on me. "It's from my father, isn't it?"

He didn't need to say anything. That barely-there nod told me everything I needed to know.

Gerard Zylla was making his next move.