"If you truly want to fix something between us, there's only one thing left you can do."
Fornax looked at Miram with a piercing glare. An attempt to intimidate her. He was completely bare-chested, his upper body muscular and strong, fully exposed.
But Miram showed no sign of fear. She met Fornax's eyes without hesitation. Her gaze steady and fearless. Her hands were tied beneath her chest.
"What are you suggesting, For?" she asked, her voice calm and smooth, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
With a smirk of disdain, Fornax stepped closer. So close that they could sharply inhale each other's scent. Yet, unlike before, Miram didn't flinch. She held her ground, defying his expectations.
He had never imagined the girl would become this bold; standing tall, locking eyes with the intensity of a tigress. During their relationship, whenever they spoke, Miram had always seemed timid and obedient.
In surprise, Fornax's eyebrows rose slightly. He looked her up and down, then slowly shook his head and said,
"Well, this is new."
With quiet pride, she straightened her back even more and held her head high.
He asked again,
"So all this time… was it all just an act?"
"That's not the point of our conversation."
Instead of answering,she redirected the conversation to its original topic. A move that curved the corner of Fornax's lips into a faint, amused smirk.
Placing one hand on the door behind Miram, he boxed her in. His gaze dropped to her unmoving, faintly colored lips.
Then he said,
"The only thing left for you to do is…"
He paused, leaned in even closer, and whispered into her ear,
"Stay away from me. Don't come near me or my room ever again."
Miram tried to respond but she wasn't given the chance.
In the blink of an eye, Fornax grabbed her arm tightly and yanked her out of the room. Then, without a word, he shut the door behind her and locked it from the inside.
Miram was furious at his behavior.
First, Fornax had ended their three-year relationship for no reason. And now, he was trying to cut off all communication with her.
She couldn't control her anger. She kicked the door with full force. For a moment, the entire door trembled—as if a mini earthquake had just occurred.
Yelling, she shouted,
"If you weren't my cousin, I'd have killed you by now, Fornax Reinhold!"
Still cursing him, Miram stormed off.
Inside his room, Fornax stood silently near the door, his expression unreadable. When Miram's voice finally faded out of hearing range, he collapsed onto his bed.
Lying there, lost in thought, Fornax stared blankly at the ceiling. One arm was tucked under his head, acting as a pillow.
In the morning, the sharp sunlight filtering through the windows stirred Fornax from sleep. The harsh sound of his alarm clock fully awakened him. After getting ready for college, he stepped out of his room.
The entire family had gathered around the breakfast table except one chair sat empty.
Pulling out his own chair and sitting down, Fornax asked,
"Uncle Parker, hasn't Miram come for breakfast yet?"
Miram's father, Parker Reinhold, was in his forties and the eldest member of the family. Tall and serious, he wore glasses perched on his long face. Adjusting them slightly, he looked at Fornax and replied,
"Miram left for college without eating. She said she has a presentation."
He sounded slightly doubtful. Frowning and with a trace of firmness in his voice, he asked,
"Did you not prepare your presentation, Fornax? Or… is something else going on?"
Fornax was caught off guard. Miram had lied. She had left the house much earlier than needed. It didn't take long for him to realize her early departure was directly related to what happened last night.
He gave a faint smile and replied, playing along with Miram's lie,
"I did prepare, Uncle. But the girls are presenting first. That's why..."
He said nothing else and quietly began eating his breakfast.
After breakfast, Parker and Fornax's father, Albert, left for their respective workplace.
Instead of heading to college, Fornax made his way toward the kitchen.
His mother, Mary, and Parker's wife, Jessa, were chatting and doing some light kitchen chores.
Standing at the doorway, Fornax cleared his throat, interrupting their conversation.
Mary turned her head over shoulder to look at her son and, wiping her hands, asked,
"Fornax, you haven't left yet?"
Fornax shook his head.
He stepped inside the kitchen, glanced briefly at Jessa, then turned his eyes back to Mary. He seemed a bit hesitant.
In a soft and somewhat nervous voice, he asked,
"Uh… Mom, do we have any extra food? Some fruits or sandwiches maybe?"
Mary opened the fridge and took out a few chilled fruits.
"What do you need extra food for?"
"Miram…" he began, "She probably left for college without eating anything. You know how she gets if she doesn't eat. I didn't want her to end up eating junk in the morning."
Mary nodded in agreement. As she began slicing the fruits, she said,
"Give me two minutes."
The basketball court was nearly empty since college hadn't officially started yet. Students were just beginning to arrive.
Miram sat alone on one side, a pencil and notebook in hand. She was sketching something quickly, dragging the pencil furiously across the page.
Under the sunlight, her honey-brown eyes looked deeply unsettled. Two deep lines had formed between her brows.
Due to skipping breakfast, she was in a foul mood. Everything around her felt irritating.
Suddenly, she tore the page she had been drawing on, crumpled it between her hands, and threw it into the nearby trash bin.
"Eat this. It'll fix your mood."
At the sound of the familiar feminine voice, Miram looked up.
It was Moran, her closest friend.
Her reddish hair was flowing freely, and she was holding out a yellow lunchbox toward Miram.
Without a word, Miram took the container from her.
As soon as she opened it, the sight of neatly arranged fruits made her even hungrier.
Saying nothing, she picked up a piece and began eating.
Moran let out a long sigh, sat beside her, and asked,
"Why do you keep hurting yourself for others, Miram? The person you skipped breakfast for this morning, he made sure to eat just fine."
"If I had stopped for breakfast," Miram replied quietly, "I would've had to face him."
"So what's the problem with that? You two are children of the same house. If Fornax has an issue, he can avoid you."
"Spare me the lecture. Just let me eat,"
Miram's sharp tone silenced Moran immediately.
She had already shared everything that had happened with Fornax the night before. The anger she'd held back from him had spilled over onto Moran. And that was enough for Moran to figure out why she had skipped breakfast.
After eating, Miram's mood began to stabilize.
She offered the now-empty box back to Moran with a faint smile and said,
"You saved me."
Moran nodded with a mischievous smirk.
"I'm starting to think I should pursue psychology after graduation. You've been great practice for me."
"Well, I am your first patient," Miram quipped.
Moran grinned, nodded, and added,
"Because of you, I've also gotten pretty good at giving advice. Teaching might not be a bad option either."
"Believe me, you'd be an absolutely terrible lecturer."
At that, both girls burst into laughter together.
That day, Fornax couldn't gather the courage to give Miram the fruits he'd brought for her.
He didn't have the strength to face her.
Something held him back. Perhaps guilt?
Even though Fornax avoided her, Miram had no choice but to see him.
They had to be in the same room during class.
Though classmates now, Fornax was three years older than her.
He was intelligent, but reckless. His disruptive behavior had twice led to the principal suspending him from college. Because of that, he'd lost two years of academic progress.
For the past week, Miram had been successfully avoiding him, just as Fornax had told her to.
But he hadn't expected she'd actually follow through.
These days, Miram had stopped talking to almost everyone except Moran.
Even with her family, she only spoke when absolutely necessary.
It was as if she had invited solitude into her life and embraced it tightly.
Slowly, her behavior, her transformation, began to trouble Fornax.
He couldn't accept the sudden change.
A strange restlessness grew inside his chest.
Since dawn, the sky had been overcast.
The air was cold and still. The temperature had dropped significantly. A snowstorm seemed imminent.
Miram had just stepped out of her room, bundled in a thick sweater.
The acrid scent of burnt tobacco in the air instantly soured her mood.
Her room faced directly opposite Fornax's.
Frowning, she looked across and saw him.
He was standing by the window, drawing in a deep drag of smoke, then exhaling it into the air around him, forming a faint smoky haze.
Without thinking, driven purely by instinct, Miram stormed into his room.
It wasn't that she had forgotten his warning.
Fornax, lost in thought, continued smoking. His eyes were fixed somewhere far in the distance.
Suddenly, without saying a word, Miram snatched the cigarette from his hand and crushed it beneath her foot.
He turned to her with a furious and cold glare.
"How dare you?" he asked, his voice stern and displeased.
But Miram didn't flinch.
On the table near the window lay one of his small knives. An item he often used.
Miram spotted it and quickly grabbed it.
The next moment, Fornax felt the blade of his own knife pressed against his neck.
"Don't raise your voice at me. I will kill you,"
she said coldly.
"This house doesn't belong to you only. It's mine too. There will be no smoking here. If I ever see it again, or smell anything foul in the air, I swear, I'll cut your windpipe and deliver it to Uncle Albert."
Her calm yet furious voice struck Fornax as both terrifying and strangely captivating.
Her eyes were unblinking.
His heart started pounding fast.
Handing the knife back to him, Miram left the room the same way she came in.
From that day on, Miram never skipped breakfast again.
She no longer felt uneasy sharing the dining table with Fornax.
During the break, Fornax stood leaning against his locker in the hallway. With him were his friends, Christoph and Vivian.
His eyes scanned the crowd, clearly searching for someone.
Noticing this, Christoph gave a mocking laugh and asked,
"If you're so worried about her, then why did you let go?"
Two deep lines formed on Fornax's forehead.
"Who are you talking about?"
"You've only ever been in one relationship in your life. Unless, of course, you had a secret affair we didn't know about?"
Christoph raised his eyebrows and gestured with his eyes to look forward.
Fornax followed his gaze and spotted Miram and Moran heading toward their lockers, engaged in a serious conversation. Their expressions betrayed frustration—something about the discussion was clearly upsetting.
Vivian, seeing Fornax's fixed gaze on Miram, lightly smacked his shoulder and said,
"You made a huge mistake, For. These days, people beg for love, and you had it. Pure and real. And still threw it away."
Fornax responded only with a deep sigh.
Vivian sighed too and added,
"Not every love is tame. But the ones that are, you hold them close, protect them, nurture them. Like a mother hen guarding her chicks."
Miram glanced at Fornax out of the corner of her eye, then turned away and began placing her things into her locker.
Fornax was still watching her. Watching how her dark hair swayed gently down her back.
"I'm toxic for her," he muttered under his breath.
As the afternoon wore on, the temperature dropped further.
Light snow began to fall, hinting that it would only intensify as the evening approached.
After class, Miram walked out of the college grounds with Moran.
Behind them, three boys were walking, slowing down as they got caught up in their conversation. Soon, the girls slipped out of their line of sight.
Suddenly, a sharp female voice reached Miram and Moran's ears, pulling them out of their discussion.
Their curiosity piqued, Miram's brows furrowed.
Ahead of them, a group of three or four girls were walking and talking.
Miram easily recognized them as her classmates.
Blonde-haired Grace said with a giggle,
"We can't afford to waste this opportunity. If necessary, I'll get Fornax drunk at Tuesday's party and make something happen. If he tries to resist later, I'll threaten him. That should do it."
Her friends laughed along in agreement.
Miram's fury ignited.
She shoved her shoulder bag toward Moran, rolled up the sleeves of her sweater, and marched forward with heavy steps.
From behind, she grabbed a fistful of Grace's golden hair and yanked hard.
Grace let out a startled cry of pain, her words now reduced to muffled sounds.
Everyone nearby stood frozen, stunned by Miram's actions, including Moran.
Grabbing Grace's chin, Miram roared,
"What were you planning? To steal my For with some filthy scheme? Let's make your plan a reality, shall we?"
Without hesitation, she yanked Grace's hair tighter and slapped her hard across the cheek, more than once.
When Grace's friends tried to intervene, it was useless.
They couldn't restrain Miram. In fact, they ended up getting hurt themselves.
Miram elbowed one girl in the throat, kicked another in the stomach, and clawed at another's face like a hawk.
Though Grace tried to retaliate out of rage, she wasn't quick enough.
By the time Fornax, Vivian, and Christoph arrived, having been searching for them. They froze at the sight.
Rushing forward, Fornax and Vivian pulled Miram and Grace apart.
Grace had minor cuts and was bleeding lightly from her nose and lip.
Miram, on the other hand, had visible red and purple bruises on her face but nothing too serious.
Their hair, however, looked like they had both been caught in a whirlwind. Completely tangled and chaotic, like a haystack after a storm.
In Vivian's arms, Grace finally calmed down.
But Miram, in Fornax's grasp, was still fuming.
She kept shouting insults at Grace and struggled violently to free herself.
In a voice full of rage, she screamed, not even realizing she was talking at Fornax,
"Let me go! That bleached-hair witch is scheming to steal my For away from me!"
The boys were stunned.
Miram's choice of words, especially her nickname for Grace, drew a few stifled laughs.
Still standing aside, Moran was speechless.
Christoph turned to her and asked,
"Is that true, Moran?"
Startled, Moran sighed and replied,
"Every word of it. Grace was planning something disgusting about Fornax."
Fornax focused entirely on calming Miram.
He knew her too well. She wouldn't have done something like this without a reason.
He cupped her face in both hands, gently forcing her to look at him, and pleaded,
"Miram… calm down. Please. For me."
Though still breathing heavily, she stayed in his embrace.
She hadn't truly calmed down, but she was trying.
Fornax and Miram sat side by side on a wooden bench near the grocery store's park.
The other three; Vivian, Christoph, and Moran were gathered a little distance away.
Fornax, holding an ice cup, carefully took out the ice and gently pressed it against the bruises on Miram's face.
Miram sat quietly, like an obedient child, saying nothing.
"What was the point of all this?" Fornax's voice was stern. He sounded somewhat angry.
"There's a chance you might get expelled from college after what happened today. You know how powerful Grace's father is. And still, you did it. Why?"
"I don't care," Miram replied.
"I'll get into another college. It'll be easier for you. You won't have to tolerate me much anymore."
From that one line, he could feel the deep resentment her still held toward him.
He didn't say anything more.
After a while, he called Moran over to help fix Miram's messy hair.
While Moran busied herself untangling the strands, Fornax stood beside them, engaged in what seemed to be a serious conversation with the other two friends.
Suddenly, without warning, the dry sky cracked open with a thunderous roar.
A lightning bolt struck the exact spot where the five of them were standing.
The ground beneath burned, releasing a pungent, acrid smell.
A faint grey smoke filled the air.
And in the blink of an eye… five lives vanished into thin air.
As if they had never existed at all.