The hammer smashed through the window embedded in the door. A man of brown hair and chocolate coloured eyes reached in through the hole he made. His hand groped blindly for the knob. Once he grasped the cold metal, he placed his thumb and index finger around the small twist lock in the center of the doorknob and turned it. The click of unlocking was heard. The man, called Jack, withdrew his hand. During this process, his arm dragged against the jagged edges of the broken window. The sharp glass penetrated his flesh, resulting in a six inch gash oozing glistening, crimson blood. That fact didn't seem to faze the man. Upon pocketing the hammer, he opened the door he'd unlocked and made his way inside.

The house was dark, but Jack didn't bother to turn on a light. He knew exactly where he was going. He padded down the hallway, blood dripping out of the glass induced wound, creating a trail of dark red splotches on the light blue carpet. A short while later, Jack came to a familiar wooden door. The bedroom door. Without hesitation, the twenty-three year old pulled it open. In there, he flicked on a light switch, his brown eyes scanning the room and landing on the double bed which stood against the pale yellow painted wall facing the door. The bedspread, the same colour as the walls, but with a white floral pattern, was pulled up under the puffy white pillows. The bed looked so comfortable, but the sight of it, the fact that it was indeed a double bed, made Jack cringe.

Most wouldn't even acknowledge such a trivial thing, but to Jack, it was a symbol of defeat. His ex-girlfriend shared that bed with her husband. It was that woman Jack loved. Loved to the point of obsession. That woman had left Jack for the man she'd been cheating on him with. It hurt Jack just to think about that episode nearly two years ago. Even now, he was teary-eyed. It had been almost two years. Two years. One would think that Jack would start to get over Kyla by now. If anything, his love for her had intensified over this period of solitude. He hadn't even been on a date, let alone had an intimate relationship, since Kyla.

As a sign of his affection he'd been showing up at her house and her workplace where he hung around outside, watching her. He didn't know if she saw him or not, though he could swear that those gorgeous, dark blue eyes had met his with tenderness smoldering in the pupils on at least one occassion. The rare nights when Kyla and her husband hadn't locked the door to their house before retiring to bed were his favourite times of all. Kyla just looked so...vulnerable while she slept. That vulnerability made her his. Then, he would look at her husband and his fantasies would change from sensual to sadistic. There were so many ways he could cut off that man's life...

Now, staring at the empty bed and remembering those times of neglect on Kyla's part, a shudder of glee racked his entire body. The tears in his eyes were forgotten before they even had the chance to fall. A smile played across Jack's features as he flicked off the lightswitch and walked slowly to the bed. This time, he left no bloody trail on the white carpet because the bleeding had grown sluggish and the blood itself was beginning to dry.

He lay down on the bed, on the side that he'd always seen Kyle on. For the first time since being cut, he recognized the wound. He draped that arm onto the opposite side of the bed. A smear of partially dried blood tarnished the cheery looking comforter, as if to acknowledge his feelings toward the man who slept there . He buried his nose into the pillow where Kyla's head rested every night. It smelled faintly of lavendar shampoo and a scent of perfume Jack couldn't quite place. As he shifted to his side, the hammer in his pocket drove lightly into his ribcage. It wasn't painful, just irritating. He removed the item and set it at the foot of the bed. His eyelids dropped and he soon fell into a comfortable sleep, completely unworried about whether or not the owners of the house would come back and discover him.

It must have been an hour or two later when Jack awoke with a start at the sound of a woman's terrified shriek. He couldn't tell what she was saying, but it sounded like the word "blood". It was at that point he remembered the blood he'd shed on the carpet walking down the hall. Instead of feeling afraid or guilty, he smiled. He'd left a trail for Kyla to follow, a trail leading to him and coming from deep inside himself. Literally.

Seconds later, he heard the doorknob turn and the heavy, nervous breathing of Kyla filled the room's atmosphere.

"L-Liam?" she looked at Jack, in the darkness only seeing a figure on the bed. She assumed the figure belonged to her husband. "Are you alright? Have you been...bleeding?" her voice shook less with every word. Jack laughed internally. The girl had done a good job of convincing herself that it was her husband on the bed and he'd accidentally dropped the razor while he was shaving and it had sliced his arm or some other stupid mistake. But how would that explain the busted window? It seemed to Jack like she was trying to avoid the topic, probably out of fear.

It would've been rude to leave her question unanswered so Jack spoke, "Yes, I cut my arm on the glass in the door window. I appreciate your concern." The words were spoken with the utmost sincerity.

Kyla was silent for a moment as she let this sink in. That voice certainly didn't belong to Liam...

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

Her scream was loud enough to wake the dead. Even in the darkness, he saw her clutch onto the bedpost, her entire body shaking. "Jack..." she half sobbed, half whispered.

A pained look crossed his features. That wasn't the reaction he had been hoping for. He rose to his feet and walked over to the trembling figure at the other side of the bed. Standing behind her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Kyla..." he said gently. "I..."

"Let go of me you psychotic freak, let go!"

Jack's arms slid lower until they were around her waist. He leaned forward. "I've missed you," he whispered into her ear.

"Let go..." she wept, faltering a little. "Jack, please, just go away...NO!"

Jack had pushed Kyla onto the bed. He held her down by her wrist, kneeling over her. "Kyla, I know you still love me." His tone was disturbingly calm. Ignoring the shaking of her head and the fierce 'no' she spat out, he cupped his hand beneath her chin and lifted her mouth to his. His other hand was tightly wrapped around her wrist. His lips met her reluctant ones and he kissed her, kissed her as deeply as he could without her cooperation.

As soon as he drew his head away from her's, she jerked her knee up and hit him in the balls. The sudden pain was unexpected and Jack reeled back. Kyla took that opportunity to wriggle out from beneath him. He wasn't a big man, so that wasn't a hard thing to do. She ran out of the room and down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind her. Jack flinched and lie in a heap on the bed, trying to ignore the seering pain between his legs.

After taking a few seconds to recuperate, he slithered off the bed. The screaming down there had became a dull ache. He opened the door and stuck his head out. "Kyla?" he called. He repeated the word both out loud and in his head as he walked, until it became almost a mantra. Finally, he came across her. To Jack, she was the most beautiful creature in the world. Her long, wavy chestnut brown hair and thick, dark eyelashes, her tan skin and dark blue eyes all seemed like carefully created artwork. She had curves in all the right places, and carried them well.

As Jack looked at her now, he saw her hanging up the phone. He smirked and wrapped his arms around her waist as he came up behind her. "Was that your darling Liam?" he asked tenderly.

"You dirtbag," Kyla freed herself from his embrace. "And no, that was the police station. You've really crossed the line, Jack."

"The police? But why, Kyla? I just want to show you how much I love you!" Jack's voice rose an octave, holding a note of uncertainty.

"How much you love me!?" Kyla rose her voice as well. Unlike Jack, she sounded angry. "Jack, you call breaking into my house and lying in my bed, scaring the life out of me... a... a... an act of affection!?"

The wounded, bewildered look in Jack's face suddenly stopped her spiel. "Oh Jack..." she took his hand into her own. "It's over between us. It's been like this for two years now. Nothing is going to change. I love my husband. That's why I married him. We just weren't..." she paused, thinking of what to say. "...meant to be."

"I..." Jack's voice quivered and tears spilled over his angular face. "I just...love you," he finished lamely. Love was an understatement. There were no words for how he felt about Kyla.

Kyla sighed and released Jack's hand. Suddenly, red and blue lights illuminated the room and the wail of sirens could be heard from outside. When the lights and sirens ceased, a car door could be heard slamming shut. Kyla went to greet the policeman. After she went outside, Jack sunk down to the floor and sat against the wall, crying freely now that she was gone.

After a bit, a policeman entered the house. He spotted Jack right away. He pointed a gun at the weeping man and went through the routine 'put your hands up' speech. Jack obeyed every word the man said. He saw Kyla as he was taken outside, the look on her face as she watched Jack be directed into the police car a mix between relief and sympathy.

The policeman talked to Kyla a bit before getting into the car himself. As the car drove to the police station, the officer explained the details of the restraining order Kyla had told him she was looking into to Jack.

-The End-