I looked him in the eyes but they were dark and cold. He was challenging me to feel nothing, to ask for nothing. It was a sick game of vengeance he was playing, thinking how can I blame him for something I have done? But it wasn't the same, far from similar. He leaned on the door, crossed his arms, and started drinking from his glass. "You're back." His tone wasn't what I expected it to be, very different from the last time our eyes met, and begged me to stay. It was telling me that he won, that at the end I came back for him. "No," before agreeing with my mind about what I wanted to say, my tongue spoke coldly, "I came to take my stuff." I kept my nose high as he took another sip of his drink to deal with me. He nodded and gave me a smirk, "good." I nodded. I was heading to my room b

