Elliot stood staring out the window of his apartment. He swirled a glass of blood in his hand, then took a sip.
“Fifty year old Irish female”.
“Correct again”, Wilson said. Someone rapped loudly on the door of their apartment. Wilson rose and went to answer it. When he returned, he had Neverish in tow. Elliot gestured for her to take a seat, then nodded to Wilson who left the room.
Elliot turned to the window again and stayed silent. He was testing Neverish’s will. Could she stand the silence?
After waiting for a few minutes, he turned and fixed her with a glare. She cowered on her chair, shrinking back under his gaze. Her eyes were turned to the ground, her shoulders hunched.
“Neverish-”, Elliot began but she cut him off.
“It wasn’t my fault”, she said defensively. “That b**ch Elena provoked me”.
“She may well have, but you struck at her first. I want this violence to stop, Neverish, not get worse”.
“I don’t care if I struck first, she provoked me. Why can’t you just come out of your shell, stop hiding away and fight Terry. Once you beat him, I can have the boy all to myself, Elena wouldn’t dare challenge me”.
“I SHALL NOT FIGHT LIKE YOU CRETINS” Elliot yelled, his temper beginning to break. “I AM STRIVNG EACH AND EVERY DAY TO STOP THIS F***ING WAR”.
Neverish had pushed her chair back at his sudden outburst. She was shocked.
“I-I’m sorry Elliot.... I-I don’t know what to say”.
“How about you say you will stop fighting? You will end this RIDICULOUS FEUD!”
“I-I can’t promise that, Elliot. I’m sorry”.
“GET OUT NOW, BEFORE I REALLY LOSE MY TEMPER”.
She scrambled off the chair and fled the apartment. Fuming, Elliot turned back to the window. He had crushed the wine glass in his hand, and blood trickled from a small gash left by it. He heard Wilson enter the room again.
“Elliot, are you alright?”
Elliot was not alright. He had nearly completely lost it there. It had taken all of his strength and his resolve to keep his cool.
“Yes Wilson, I’m fine”.