"We are all broken, that's how the light gets in."

~ Ernest Hemingway

It had been nearly two weeks since I last interacted with Tobias. Two dreadfully long weeks full of nothing but normalcy. The swelling on my cheek had subsided within the first two days, the cut on my lip had healed too. The gang had met quite a few times in between, even at Andy's house, but there was no sign of Tobias at any of our gatherings.

My unanswered questions were eating me inside out like termites on wood. I knew I was still in danger, despite what Tobias said. I was paranoid but more than that, I wanted to uncover what he was so desperately hiding.

As I lay in bed, the sound of my ringtone startled me.

Who's calling me at this hour?

I squinted to check the caller ID. Not recognizing the number I ignored it, silencing its ring. As I yawned and stretched, something compelled me to answer the call. I swiped the screen, placing the phone to my ear.

I yawned again, mumbling sleepily, "Hello?"

"Little mermaid."

"Tobias." A tornado of butterflies attacked my stomach upon recognizing his voice. I held my breath, my tongue sandpaper dry. A sliver of a smile threatened to tingle my lips, my sleep vanishing within seconds.

"Can I tell you a secret?" His voice was so warm and different.

I swallowed all my questions and the lump in my throat, letting him explain why he was reaching out to me after all these days.

"Mhm," I hummed.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

My heart stopped beating. I gulped but my throat tightened. A shiver crawled up my spine. My palms got sweaty. The smile I was suppressing broke free, my eyes closing to relish his words.

That makes two of us.

"I'm sorry you got caught up in my mess."

"It would just feel a lot better if I knew what that mess was," I whispered.

After a long pause, he mumbled, "I'll be outside in five minutes." 

"What? Right now?" I asked but he had already hung up.

At that point, I felt like I was dreaming. With a puzzled expression, I wrapped a grey stole around my tank top, pulled on my sweatpants and sneakers, and tiptoed down the stairs. Suddenly, I stumbled into a hard object. When I looked up to see who it was, I was met with Jonah's smirk.

"Sneaking out in the middle of the night, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, pushing past him, which made him chuckle. 

When I finally made it outside, I immediately recognized Tobias' Impala and climbed in, eager for some answers. Unfortunately, the redness of his eyes and the stifling stench of smoke and alcohol gave him away, my heart instantly feeling heavy.

"You're not in your senses, are you?" I sighed.

He looked so lost.

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. I just stared at him, the amber of his irises hidden beneath his heavy eyelids. He looked peaceful, more than he truly was. My questions were close to spilling but his following words made me dead silent.

"My mother was murdered nearly five years ago."

Oh, fuck.

A sharp pang overcame my heart when I processed what he revealed to me, I was utterly shocked that he shared something so traumatic with me. At last, the depth of his words abled me to comprehend why he was the way he was: cold, unexpressive, ruthless.

His erratic behavior stemmed from the loss of his mother. I couldn't even begin to imagine what that did to him.

I sucked in a sharp breath, his orbs fixated on the ceiling of the car. My lips were sealed, letting him carry the conversation at his own pace.

Murdered. She was murdered.

He continued after running his hands through his touselled hair, "We were out of eggs. She wanted to...bake me a cake for my eighteen birthday. When I returned...from the store with the eggs, sh--she--" His voice cracked, along with it my heart.

He reached into his right pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes with jittery hands. After pulling one out, he flicked his lighter to ignite its flame. He lifted his head to light the cigarette but his thumb kept slipping off the ignition.

Instinctively, he sat up, tilting his head and attempting to light the cigarette again. On impulse, I wrapped both my hands around his, knowing how badly he needed to smoke despite the fact that I hated it. I pried both items out of his shaking hands, placed the cigarette between my lips, and lit it for his sake.

After inhaling a deep puff to set it ablaze, I set the death-stick between his parted lips. I tried to ignore the fact that the cigarette which had been between my lips was now gripped by his. He gazed into my eyes gratefully, his usual stone-cold demeanor fading into one that was painfully vulnerable.

"W--when I returned..." He exhaled the smoke, "...the house was engulfed in...flames. I tried--I tried to save her but--"

"It's not your fault, Tobias."

I rested my hand on his leg and began rubbing his thigh, trying to show him that I was there for him and that he didn't need to explain everything all at once. He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth hard, inhaling drag after drag. I didn't want to say the stereotypical "I'm sorry for your loss" because I knew that was something I wouldn't have wanted to hear.

"My mother was murdered nearly five years ago."

We sat in silence for at least an hour, parked outside my house. Despite the weight of his past, the atmosphere was surprisingly comfortable. Closed eyes and deep breaths, I watched him intently. In between, he kept glancing at me, as if he was making sure I was still there.

After a while, he straightened his seat, pushing the gear shift forward, bringing us out of parking. With one hand on the wheel, he retained control and accelerated down the street.

"Tobias, can you please, um, wear your seatbelt. You're not really in the best state to be driving..."

He sighed, yanking the seatbelt across his body and clicking it into its holder.

"Thank you," I whispered lightly, staring out at the barely lit street, the break of dawn arriving.

I clasped my seatbelt on as well before glancing at the boy next to me. I couldn't help but study his appearance, taking my time to notice each and every detail. His hair was messy as usual, his body tense and his demeanor as timid as ever.

His stubble had grown slightly more than before, outlining his sharp jawline and cheekbones. I found myself eyeing his exposed collarbones, gulping at how drawn I felt to him despite his intoxicated state.

Moments later, the car abruptly came to a halt. The warehouse stood in front of us, its familiarity setting in. I scurried behind Tobias as he led us into the dark building. A flood of emotions erupted inside me but I kept them at bay. It was empty and cold, making me shiver with goosebumps. I trailed behind him when he led us upstairs into a room with lots of equipment.

"I just need you to stay away from me."

"Grab those gloves," he instructed, looking far soberer now as he skillfully wrapped his hands, one after the other, with strips of cloth.

I handed the boxing gloves to him, he placed them on the bench next to him and then began wrapping my hands with the cloth as well. He slid the black and gold pair of gloves onto my tiny hands, fastening their straps. I wiggled my fingers inside the gloves, trying to adjust myself and get comfortable in them.

"What are we doing?" I inquired suspiciously.

Ignoring my question, he guided me towards the punching bags, moving behind one of them and holding it firmly with both his hands. He patted the area of the punching bag that faced me and said, "Punch it."

I stared at the black leather giant hanging from the ceiling and felt uncertain. I threw a weak punch into it with my right hand, barely even leaving a dent. I frustratingly eyed the bag and decided to loosen up by unwrapping my stole, exposing my tank top.

I tried to relax my body despite the fact that Tobias was eyeing me. I shook out my arms and legs and reclaimed my stance, bringing my fists up in front of me. I released a few more blows which were surprisingly better than the last time and gave Tobias a satisfactory smile.

He stared back plainly and strolled towards me. He placed both his hands on my shoulders and rolled them back, straightening my posture, to release all the tension my muscles contained.

"Too tight."

As soon as his fingers touched my bare skin, I felt goosebumps form all over my body. He re-positioned me with ease, adjusting my stance and the angle of my arms.

"Use your legs to support yourself."

His fingers lingered near the back of my neck as he remained behind me. I couldn't focus on my punches with him so close to me so I shakily choked out, "Tobias." I cleared my throat, "I can't focus with you standing like this."

He was taken aback by my words as he said, "Oh." His touch left me instantly and I finally found my breath.

"M'I doing this right?" I asked, positioning myself as he had dictated.

He gave me a nod as he appeared behind the punching bag once again. I strategically threw a round of punches, using both hands, one fist after the other. I was at it for a good while until I started sweating profusely and stepped back to regain my strength. By this time the warehouse had illuminated as the rays of the sun shone brightly through the large windows.

I slumped down on the nearest bench, sweaty and exhausted, "Is there any water?"

"Cooler." He pointed.

I responded with a polite smile, "Thank you."

I bent down to lift a squeeze bottle, juggling it between my forearms as I still had the boxing gloves on. It slipped from my grasp, crash landing towards the floor but Tobias was quick to swoop in and rescue it.

I started giggling until I registered just how close Tobias was.

"Oops?" I bit my lip, suppressing a childish grin.

After setting the bottle down, he gripped my forearm firmly, pulling open the Velcro strap on the glove. His intense gaze not leaving mine as he switched over to the other glove. He took his time to unwrap the cloth, my heart thudding at our proximity. I cleared my throat, feeling it tighten.

That snapped him back to his senses. He handed me the bottle before walking towards the punching bag. As I chugged the water, he was busy undoing the cloth from around his fists.

"Aren't you going to show me how it's really done?" I asked.

He immediately stiffened and raised his head to look at me. He thought to himself before landing a rapidfire of quick and firm blows onto the punching bag. My eyes widened at how fast he moved, admiring his technique and skill. He barely even broke a sweat. The way he moved was so effortless and natural, as if he was born for this. My mind instantly went back to his fight against King Kong and I shuddered.

I decided it was time to break the ice and began questioning him while he released his hands from the cloth, "What does it mean? Sicarius?"

"Assassin," he replied dryly.

"What was she like? Your mom?" I let my curiosity get the better of me, my voice small.

"Nothing like me."

"I thought you needed me to stay away from you?" I whispered.

"Not anymore," was his tight-lipped response.

"What did you do?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

He gave me look which clearly indicated that there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to share any further with me.

The sound of my stomach grumbling engulfed us. "I'm hungry," I announced sheepishly, biting my lower lip.

"Fine, come on." He shrugged his leather jacket over his black v-neck, before walking out, his eyes not meeting mine.

At least we're making progress.

————

Losing people changes you.

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Love, Ari