Seeing this, Isabel quickly approached, set the cups on the table, and knelt before him. Her hands held his shoulders, gentle, yet firm.
"Kaivan, breathe… It's over now. This is Vella's fault. Not yours," she whispered, trying to calm the storm roaring in his heart.
That name, Vella, made Kaivan's breath hitch. His jaw clenched; his eyes sharpened with burning anger.
"You're right… Vella caused everything! I have to kill her!" he yelled, voice shaking with raw fury.
Isabel froze for a moment, startled by the intensity in his eyes. "And after that?" she asked quietly. "What will you do once everything is destroyed?"
"I'll take everything from her! I'll ruin her life, make her suffer for ever existing!" Kaivan spat, each word carved with fire.
Isabel exhaled slowly, stood up, and walked toward the door. With a small click, she locked the room.
"That won't heal you, Kaivan," she said calmly, her voice slicing through the air like a quiet blade. "Even if you finish your revenge, your heart won't find peace. What was lost won't return. And what is wounded… will keep bleeding."
Kaivan glared at her. "You think you can keep me here? I don't need your advice, Isabel. No matter what you offer, I don't care."
Outside the window, the sky was heavy and cold. The old lamp cast a muted gold across the walls, making the shadows sway like silent ghosts. In that small, breathless room, there were only the two of them, two broken souls, trying to save each other in the worst way possible.
Isabel looked at Kaivan without saying a word. Her gaze hung between them like rain that never fell, heavy with hurt and longing. Their unsteady breaths were the only living sound in the room.
Slowly, Isabel let down every wall she had, not to entice him, but as if she were shedding a weight too heavy to carry. Each movement felt hesitant, trembling, yet resigned. Under the dim light, her skin looked pale and cold.
"Do you think I'm afraid, Kaivan?" Her voice quivered, but the resolve beneath it was real. She stepped closer, every step a battle against herself. "If this is what it takes to stop you… then I'll do it."
Kaivan clenched his fists. His eyes sharpened, his expression torn between anger and pity.
"Give me the key, Isabel. I don't want to continue this game," he said quietly, soft, but sharp enough to cut.
Isabel gave a faint smile, a smile that looked more like a wound than joy. She stood so close that her breath brushed against his skin. "I saw you," she whispered, her voice almost breaking. "In the lumber shed… kissing Thivi. I saw everything. But there was no love there, Kaivan. Just emptiness. You didn't even care."
Kaivan looked back at her, hollow. "And after knowing that… what then, Isabel?" His voice was flat, emotionless. He turned toward the door.
But Isabel wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her warmth pressed against his cold back, two pieces of metal that would never fuse. Her embrace wasn't meant to tempt him. It was a plea, born from despair.
Her arms trembled as they wrapped around Kaivan's body. "Why, Kaivan? Why aren't you interested in me?" she whispered, barely a breath, yet filled with a pain that screamed in silence. "Why, Kaivan… why won't you look at me?" Her voice cracked. "Is it because my breasts isn't as big as Thivi's? Or because my hips aren't as pretty as Zinnia's? Or because my face… isn't as lovely as Felicia's?"
Each word left her lips like an arrow loosed by shaking hands, fragile, but piercing all the same. Her embrace tightened, as if she were trying to hold onto a shadow about to slip away.
Kaivan froze. The scent of roses. Isabel's trembling voice. The warmth of a wounded heart pressed against him. All of it hammered against the towering walls he had built inside himself. Slowly, he lifted his hand and touched Isabel's fingers where they clung to him.
With gentle firmness, he unwrapped her hold. Then he turned around. His eyes met hers, sharp as a blade, filled with hurt he could no longer hide, with confusion he couldn't escape, and something deeper still… something without a name.
"If this is what you want, Isabel… if you're trying to prove something… then I'll follow your lead," he said softly. His calm voice was somehow far more terrifying as his hand slipped away from the doorknob. "Your house is empty, right? No one's here tonight?"
Isabel's face drained of color. Her eyes widened, trembling with fear and disbelief. "K–Kaivan?" she whispered, her voice on the verge of breaking.
Moments later, Isabel lay on her bed, half-hidden beneath a blanket. Her breaths were slow, but her heartbeat thundered in her chest. Their eyes locked in a long, heavy silence, as if the outside world had vanished. When Kaivan finally spoke, his voice was a low whisper.
"Are you ready for what I'm about to do?" he murmured, not teasing, not romantic, but dark and heavy, like a whisper from the depths dressed as comfort.
Isabel only nodded. Her eyes shut tight, shutting out the world… and in that silence, she accepted her fall.
Across the quiet city a few minutes earlier, under orange streetlights humming softly in the night, seven friends gathered in a knot of restless worry. Frans leaned against a lamp post, hands buried in his jacket pockets. Radit sat on a park bench, his foot bouncing anxiously. Felicia crossed her arms, her sharp gaze fixed on the dark street ahead, while Zinnia kept trying Kaivan's phone again and again.
Livia stood beside her, face pale with worry, gripping Zinnia's hand as if seeking shelter. Raphael paced back and forth, breath uneven.
"We've been searching everywhere. Still no sign of him," Ethan muttered, frustrated. He dropped onto the curb, cigarette trembling between his fingers before he flicked it away.
Livia whispered, "Do you think… he went far away?"
Silence fell. Raphael stopped pacing, hesitation tightening his jaw. "Wait… Isabel. Where's Isabel right now?"
A heavy tension settled instantly. Frans clenched his fists. "You're right. We need to find her. Now."
Without another word, they all broke into a run toward Isabel's house.
In the quiet bedroom, Kaivan watched Isabel sleeping on her side. Her breathing had steadied, unaware of the storm that had passed moments ago. Her hair spilled softly across the pillow, fragile, almost weightless. Her face looked peaceful… yet that peace felt like a blade twisting in Kaivan's chest.
Slowly, Kaivan approached her. His fingers trembled as he brushed her hair aside. "I'm sorry, Bela…" he whispered. "But I have to go."