How to Kill a Mocking Mango

Taisa opened the front door of her apartment and let it wide open for Xander. When she noticed he was still standing outside, she looked at him puzzled, “Why aren’t you coming in?”

“I wasn’t formally invited.”

“Pfft. What are you? A vampire?” She took off one boot.

“I prefer the term ‘polite’.”

“This, from the man that never says ‘hello’.” The other boot was clunkily dropped.

Xander silently closed the door behind him and glided towards the living room. Passing through her narrow hallway, he gave her living room an assessing scan. “I thought you lived with someone?”

“Ah, yes, Ronnie is rarely here. Med school. Will you order while I get changed?”

He nodded and seated himself on her worn-out beige couch. Taisa had gotten used to letting Xander choose the place and meals by now as it made him much more agreeable during dinner. Xander’s anxiety skyrocketed in the presence of new food groups, uneven macro ratios, and non-estimable calories, while for Taisa, food was food. As such, she let him order for the both of them; asking him to do so was just a formality.

Reappearing in her plaid pajamas, she curled up in the corner opposite to him and propped her elbow on the armrest. “What’re we having?”

“Korean noodles.” This made her smirk a bit.

“Oh, any reason?”

“I thought you could use them to fortify your skeletal structure.”

“You do know that my ‘inner noodle’ was a metaphorical construction?”

“Hmmm, I thought it was out of character for you to use such embellished descriptions.”

“Yes,” she drawled, “I never exaggerate and I hardly ever am dramatic.” She threaded her fingers through her hair and leaned into her palm with the back of her head.

“Oh, certainly, you and drama are so far removed from each other that the two of you couldn’t even make a Venn diagram.” Taisa studied his smirking countenance and was surprised to discover that she was swept away by an euphoric rush. She had read somewhere that exposure makes you develop a preference for things or people that you see more often than others. That was probably why she found his face so alluring right now.

‘Maybe he did something with his eyebrows? Did he always have nice eyebrows? The bangs were probably hiding them up until now… He does have a nice jawline though…Funny human brain’…Taisa’s staring contest was interrupted by a loud knock.

“They must have Sonic doing deliveries!” She bolted for the door eager to get her face stuffed with jjapaguri. After unlocking the door, she was greeted by two big takeout bags; but not from the same restaurant, and none had noodles.

“Hey Tai…”

Exuding nervousness all around him and looking like he was ready to hide under a rock, Victor stood before her.

“Hey Vic.” His baby blues apprehensively looked at her before casting his gaze down to the takeout in his arms.

“I thought we could eat… and talk… if you want, that is. I got your faves…mango-caramel cheesecake and Swedish turkey meatballs.” He lifted the bags slightly to be within her field of view.

Taisa was suddenly constrained by the unbearable weight of guilt and self-hate, pressing down on every inch of her body. Victor’s pleading face made her want to violently crawl her way out of her own skin.

“I really hate it when you’re mad at me. So, I came here to say I’m sorry, and maybe… we can talk again?”

A frail bud of hope bloomed inside her at seeing Victor’s nervous but expectant smile.

“What’s taking so long? You should’ve asked if you needed more cash.” The approaching voice drained Victor’s skin of color and warmth almost instantly.

Xander was looking through his wallet while he was walking through the hallway, but stopped, surprise etching on his face when he caught sight of who was beyond the door.

Victor shoved the takeout bags in Taisa’s arms and pushed past her to get closer to the cause of his misery for the past week.

“What the f*&^ are you doing here?”

“I should be having a late dinner by now, but I guess you failed your career as a delivery boy as well…”

“I don’t work for… Agh forget it!” he turned swiftly to face Taisa, ”Tai, why is he in your apartment? At this hour?”

“L-look, we really –“

“I don’t see why she has to explain herself to you.”

“Butt out Xander! From you, I never had any expectations in the first place, but I thought Tai would have enough sense to stay away from the likes of you!“

“I think she was doing far worse when she hung around solely with you.”

Victor’s face suddenly lit up with realization. “I get it… She’s probably doing you for the money, right? Of course! With her debt to me, her part time job-“

“GET OUT!!!!” Both men stopped their arguing to turn at the source of the shrill cry.

Face red and brows contorted in the deepest frown, she threw both bags at Victor and yanked the door open with such force you’d think it would come out of its hinges.

“Tai, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“

“OOOOOOUT!!” a crack made its way through her shout, “You’ll have your goddamn money,” suppressing the quiver was becoming increasingly harder, “Now out.”

With one last despondent look at Taisa, Victor stormed out of the apartment and left the three in mortuary silence. The delivery boy from the Korean noodle shop had been standing confusedly outside the open door for a few minutes now.

Xander walked up to him, paid and closed the door. Taisa wearily trudged herself to sit on the couch, all the while looking very distraught and out of focus.

Placing the bags with food on the chipped coffee table, he cautiously sat next to her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“How much?” he laced his long fingers together.

“3000,” she was burning a hole with her fixed stare into space.

“Any timeframe?”

“After I made it “big” in fashion.” The hole was getting bigger.

“For what purpose, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Part of my university tuition.” He could feel the heat becoming palpable.

“He agreed to the terms that have been set prior to him giving you the money. Albeit vague, the conditions of your loan were accepted by both parties. You shouldn’t feel at fault, Taisa.”

Taisa brusquely got up and started pacing around the room. She caught sight of the bits of mango from the cheesecake lying on the floor, openly mocking her hopes of things ever going her way.

Her hunched shoulder started trembling and she could barely muster the strength to say the next words: “I’m such a horrible person…”

The smothered feelings and tears that were held down up until now broke free from their confines and overcame her entire being.

The sobbing mess rapidly morphed into a wailing lump on the floor, and Xander never felt more at loss in his life. Sure, women have cried before him, for him, because of him; but this - this was entirely different. It made his heart lurch at the visceral pain sprawled before him. It wasn’t for him, it was like he wasn’t even there; a personal moment in which he just happened to stumble into – and it felt like the most intimate experience of his existence.

Like in a trance, he made his way to her and perched himself on the edge of her coffee table. A tentative hand gently fanned her shoulder with light finger taps, afraid to fully apply pressure, as if her pain was as physical as it was emotional. Flinching slightly, her wails died down to pathetic whimpers and leaned into his touch.

“You can’t be worse than me,” the low baritone of his voice prickled her skin delightfully. She looked up, the green in her eyes standing out against the red of her crying, and silently relayed her confusion.

“All people are inherently evil, in some way, if it makes you feel better,” his index finger was tracing her bare collarbone.

“I…think I’m worse than most…” he could feel the shakiness of her voice vibrating through his touches.

“According to your perspective. Evil is quite relative.” The rest of his fingers were now brushing the back of her neck. His ministrations weren’t conscious; it was like his hand had suddenly developed a mind of its own the moment it came into contact with her. She leaned the back of her head in his palm, closing her eyes to enjoy his thumb brushing against her throat.

“Want to compare evils to make me feel better?” her thick eyelashes glistened from her tears, as did her flushed cheeks, now slightly puffed out from her bitter smile.

A series of conflicting emotions arose within him. On the one hand, he was distressed at her distress, on the other hand, he was weirdly satisfied that she was so trustingly laying her vulnerability literally in his hands.

“You’ll have to go first. I want to know what I’m up against.” He leaned forward and pressed her head to him so that she was resting her temple against the side of his chin. The low, airy murmurs that followed enveloped her entire being in a soothing heat:

“Tell me what makes you so horrible.”