“You’re so remote, so guarded, so careful. So private to the public eye. You never show things…you just move,” she told him. “You’re all these things I can never understand.”
He kept quiet, biting his lower lip and looking away. Looking at anything but her. In a way, he was glad she didn’t. He preferred it that way.
“I never asked you to.”
At that instant, she felt like there was this impossibly sharp knife that just slitted through her skin, through her heart, through the deepest of her emotions. He could hurt her, just like that.
With five simple words of the English language.
He could tell she was hurt.
Perfect. He wasn’t in need of another female in favour of his feelings. The last was enough. At least she wasn’t sobbing. He stole a look at her. She was looking down, gritting her teeth. At her frustration, and at his ignorance, his noncomittance. A wave of empathy washed over him for a split second. Just that split of a second.
“All I ever wanted was—“
“To be my friend?” he snorted. “Sorry, but there was never a vacancy for that. Not last time, not now, not later, not forever.”
The second blow hurt her just as much as the first one did. In tenfolds. Why did he have to be so damn hard? And why was she caring?
“Hear me out.”
She’d said it in her lowest voice possible, her most feeble. She was intricately pleading.
“I don’t need to.”
And he started to make for the exit. He didn’t know why he was being so distant, so cold, so hesitant to her advances. And all she ever wanted was nothing really dangerous, really. Except he knew that if they started being friends, he would lose it all over again. He just would. She was everything that made him forget, and when he just start doing that, he would remember. That was impeccably dangerous. He didn’t want to go there again.
She was holding on to herself, gripping at her cardigan sleeve more tightly than ever. She could die if she didn’t get this out. He needed to hear her.
“Wait,” she managed to grab at his jacket as he walked past her.
He tensed, choosing to stand rooted at the floor and staring into it. He could have easily yanked her grip off his jacket, but he didn’t. Dominic’s voice echoed across his brain. Give it a shot, mate.
“We can take it slow, you know. You don’t have to be so damn hard.”
“Is that all?”
He could feel her feet shifting as she twisted her torso and moved around to face him. Now she was in front of him, begging silently for all the world, for him to see her in the eye.
“Look at me,” she said. “Just look at me.”
And he did. He looked into her eyes. There was nothing absolutely brilliant about it. Her facial features were also very normal, none of them would have very much cost her a glance from him had she been an unknown stranger.
But those eyes; he saw it then.
They cared.
“I care. That’s all I need you to hear,” she spoke as he stared into those eyes, and she stared back. “I care.”
And as she let go of him, he chose to walk out of the door and leave her alone. Misery certainly loved company.
He kept quiet, biting his lower lip and looking away. Looking at anything but her. In a way, he was glad she didn’t. He preferred it that way.
“I never asked you to.”
At that instant, she felt like there was this impossibly sharp knife that just slitted through her skin, through her heart, through the deepest of her emotions. He could hurt her, just like that.
With five simple words of the English language.
He could tell she was hurt.
Perfect. He wasn’t in need of another female in favour of his feelings. The last was enough. At least she wasn’t sobbing. He stole a look at her. She was looking down, gritting her teeth. At her frustration, and at his ignorance, his noncomittance. A wave of empathy washed over him for a split second. Just that split of a second.
“All I ever wanted was—“
“To be my friend?” he snorted. “Sorry, but there was never a vacancy for that. Not last time, not now, not later, not forever.”
The second blow hurt her just as much as the first one did. In tenfolds. Why did he have to be so damn hard? And why was she caring?
“Hear me out.”
She’d said it in her lowest voice possible, her most feeble. She was intricately pleading.
“I don’t need to.”
And he started to make for the exit. He didn’t know why he was being so distant, so cold, so hesitant to her advances. And all she ever wanted was nothing really dangerous, really. Except he knew that if they started being friends, he would lose it all over again. He just would. She was everything that made him forget, and when he just start doing that, he would remember. That was impeccably dangerous. He didn’t want to go there again.
She was holding on to herself, gripping at her cardigan sleeve more tightly than ever. She could die if she didn’t get this out. He needed to hear her.
“Wait,” she managed to grab at his jacket as he walked past her.
He tensed, choosing to stand rooted at the floor and staring into it. He could have easily yanked her grip off his jacket, but he didn’t. Dominic’s voice echoed across his brain. Give it a shot, mate.
“We can take it slow, you know. You don’t have to be so damn hard.”
“Is that all?”
He could feel her feet shifting as she twisted her torso and moved around to face him. Now she was in front of him, begging silently for all the world, for him to see her in the eye.
“Look at me,” she said. “Just look at me.”
And he did. He looked into her eyes. There was nothing absolutely brilliant about it. Her facial features were also very normal, none of them would have very much cost her a glance from him had she been an unknown stranger.
But those eyes; he saw it then.
They cared.
“I care. That’s all I need you to hear,” she spoke as he stared into those eyes, and she stared back. “I care.”
And as she let go of him, he chose to walk out of the door and leave her alone. Misery certainly loved company.
0 comments:
Post a Comment