It was almost like a masochistic pride, or not almost, it was… everybody sees how terrible he looks, the tired eyes, his whole deanor, and even the way he talks. They can hear him, they can see him, even his leg, how much fuckery it's caused. But now… even though he just said he tried to make it better for his family, he now said the exact opposite of it.
That he loves it, loves the struggle, loves the pain, the death, and the blood that cos with it… like if he had two faces. That's what they now see and thought as that smile curled on his face, as he fiddled the coin between his fingers.
"I-It doesn't make any sense." Alda spoke again, her voice still hesitant, still feeling the weight of it all, that she kinda went overboard, but she knew if she didn't keep going then nothing was going to change, and she would be in the worst spot, soone who raised her voice against him even it was just for confronting him.
"Yeah, it doesn't… that is the best about it, that nothing makes a single fucking sense no more." He said as he was still flipping the coin. "When they were here, I was too calm, too stupid… I cared about them so much and that was exactly the problem. I didn't really understand what this life ans, I didn't really care about power moves, drugs, weapons, nor money or who my enemies were, I just tried to live a normal life." He shook his head with a chuckle. "Then out of the sudden, my life changed the second ti, and that ti, life just decided to rip everything from ." He looked up at them. "First Lucian, a friend who left behind a daughter, who calls dad, then everything just went down, Rafael, Hans, the Circle, many of my loyal n, and now Ferucci, while my mother and Charlotte are with Bella in another country… does it make any sense?" He looked at Alda.
"It's not… but if you do this, running in circles thinking about the sa thing, nothing is going to change. You are trapped, looping the sa things, when in front of your eyes a whole future stands, Jas… your future, your family… us… don't let yourself be trapped in the past."
The coin stopped in between his fingers as he looked once again at Alda with those heavy and tired eyes… but he looked once again nacing.
"Past, huh?" He chuckled. "I think God or the aliens, whoever created us, they made the past as an eternal punishnt. You know why, Alda?"
She shook her head and even her breath stopped as her hand once again started uncontrollably shaking, as those eyes looked at her.
"Your whole life… you'll always rember the past. You'll always go back to the mories, the decisions you made, and the ones you didn't… the chances you took, and the ones you let slip away. You'll rember the smiles of your loved ones, the laughter, the faces… and the worst part?" His fist clenched tight, knuckles whitening. "You'll rember death. The mont soone close to you dies, it never leaves." His hand trembled before slamming down on the table, sending glasses and utensils crashing to the floor. "I don't rember the smiles… or their laughter. You know what I do rember? Their dead bodies." His voice cracked as he glared at Alda, his fist now bleeding from the broken plate. "I lost Marcello… Hans… Rafael… and I don't see their faces, but only their bodies. Every ti I close my eyes, it's there… playing over and over again."
His lips curled into a broken smile. "And the worst part is that… I like it. The pain… the chaos… it's the only thing that makes sense anymore. The only thing that feels real."
Trauma. Nothing else but pure trauma, that is what's left in him. It's not just pain or sadness, it's like a shadow that clings to every thought, every mory. It warps ti, trapping Jas in monts he can't escape, that he can't forget no matter what he does. His whole being is just that, trauma that isn't just sothing that happened, it beca him, and the thing just made him more dangerous in its own way, because for Alda and the others it felt like a suffocating being looking at them.
It wasn't authority, wasn't power, but sothing far darker than that, a human shell of what once was Jas Bellini, once was a careless, nonchalant man.
He looked down on his hand, once again his blood dripping down, slowly the pain of it setting in, the feeling that he already felt many tis. "When you've buried enough people you swore you'd protect… you just drown in it Alda, and nothing else… there is no such thing that it will make you stronger, no, it will just eat you alive."
Alda still just sat, looked at him as her tears now unstoppably flowed as she fought the urge to speak, but this whole mont was different… she couldn't speak, she couldn't let the words out.. because those eyes couldn't let her.
"When I think about the future the only question that cos to my mind is, how many will die? How many families will be shattered? The people ca to with hope but in the last few weeks all I could give them was death."
The room stayed silent for a long ti, because what he said was true. People had died, and more would die, that's how it worked, that's what they had signed up for… but then, Alda's chair scraped back as she stood up, her body trembling, yet her expression filled with determination… ready to do sothing, to say sothing.
"Then you're wrong." she said, barely whispering. "Because you still rember enough to be angry, enough to bleed." She looked at his hand and then back to him. "That ans you're not gone yet… and if you're not gone… you can still choose sothing else… and you need sothing." She said as she slowly walked up to him.
"What do I nee—"
It was loud, a loud and powerful slap that echoed through the whole dining area and hallway… it was so loud that even Mike who was coming up heard it and as he looked in, he witnessed the second slap, back to back.
"T-that's what you need." She said her voice low as she now started crying but as she again held up her hand to strike him, she couldn't because Mike stepped into the room, and she heard the click as he pulled out his gun.
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