“I need quiet, love.” 

“Quiet with me, Adonis! Peace with me!”

He backed away, his hands as if pushing her threatening aura away. He couldn’t care to open his lips. Not again. Not anymore. Her hand trembled towards the kitchen counter. She continued her lecture as if screaming for help.

“You don’t love me? After all I’ve done? I catered to your pathetic self and this is how you treat me!”

“I’m sorry, love.” 

“Stick to your fucking alcohol!”

She clawed his face; Adonis couldn’t flinch, looking into her dreadful eyes. Only a stream of tears ran down without a sound. A stream of blood as well. She broke down shaking violently on the floor, only a few feet from his numbed body. He took this opportunity to speak.

“I’m sorry, my love. I can’t live like this it’s as if I’m dead!”

“You dare speak back to me?!,” she sobbed. 

He faced the back window. The view outside was pitch black. The moon was covered by clouds, creating a vortex of oblivion through the glass. Such blackness left him solace, in fact, the peace of mind he had been searching for. This yearning filled his surroundings as Adonis stared without movement. Looking at her, he felt pity, for once. After what took place, he no longer felt the need to profusely apologize. He now saw a rabid dog showering tears of falsehood. She deeply inhaled. 

“I can’t take your lies anymore. You will love me. That’s what you agreed to. Without your side pieces and cigarettes!”

She slit his throat.

***

A man sat across his hospital bed. He dressed very casual for his supposed line of work as if he weren't qualified. As if this were a game to him. He’d been callously visiting for the past few days, asking Adonis questions. Of course, he couldn’t verbally reply. A notepad sat next to his bedside.

His name was Daniil, supposedly an investigator for what had happened. The patient hadn’t hired him, nor was he wearing proper police attire. Just a plaid shirt tucked into jeans. He wasn’t in a position to say no to the strange man. He had nowhere to eat or sleep. Adonis would be stranded, homeless, once released from the confines of the hospital. A mountain of debt would likely plague him until he dies. Daniil placed a pile of neatly folded clothes by his feet.

"Put these on. They should fit"

He left the bare room, leaving a leather briefcase along a recliner. Adonis took this sudden action as an invitation. 

His eyes had bags, looking into the mirror. He couldn’t trim his beard with a bandage gracing his neck. Hazel eyes stared back at him; his roughed hands felt the complexion of his face.