117.My Tears Are Becoming A Sea

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It was around 1 in the morning when Sara came in through the door and entered the flat after wandering the cold streets for hours. Everything except for a desk lamp was turned off and the place was dark and quiet, well quiet as much as it could be, considered that they lived in NYC.

After endless roaming of the streets and thinking and crying she decided to head home and make things right. She hoped that maybe by now Michael would have come to his senses. But maybe he was asleep, he had to be up early tomorrow.
Sara knew that if he was she wouldn't be able to get her own rest because she'd think of what happened all night, but she was still going to talk to him about it.

He didn't even call or run after her when she left him earlier at the parking lot and that hurt her quite a bit. Sara was sure deep down he knew his behaviour wasn't okay but he had always gone after her and insisted on making things right. This time it wasn't like this and the ex doc hated the uneasy feeling that nestled in her chest. It was sending chills of an unexpected warning all over her body, still she tried to ignore it.

When Sara entered the kitchen and switched the light on she almost had a panic attack as she saw Michael sitting on the one of the kitchen chairs. He was looking out the window, the fingers on his left hand tapping slowly on the surface of the table. He was shirtless, wearing just a pair of Gray sweatpants and his feet were bare. Sara immediately wished for him to get dressed so he wouldn't get ill as her hazel eyes seized up the goosebumps that had risen on his skin.

Yes, she was beyond angry at her husband but she still cared so so much for him.

And speaking of Michael, he didn't even acknowledge her presence in the room. Sara's copper darkened eyes observed his side profile as she stood by the door, her fingers unconsciously pulling on the end of her sleeve in nervousness. She could clearly see the way his jaw was clenched, his lips still in a frown,unmoving and he barely blinked from what she could see,showing nothing but a stone expression.

A small tired sigh escaped her mouth as she left her purse on top of the table and quietly sat down on the other free chair. Her arms crossed defensively on her chest and she focused her attention on Michael, who still wouldn't even look at her. She also tried to ignore the way her uneasiness was growing, sending an unpleasant feeling to rumble in her stomach.

The silence was too loud. At least she felt it this way. In her head, Sara still heard their screams and his stupid words or accusation. She felt like there was a hole in the ground and they were standing on either side of it, waiting to see who would fall in the pitch darkness first.His heavy breathing couldn't be heard but she could clearly see it by the way his chest rose and fell so aggressively.

"what happened tonight hurt me.. I'm telling you that because I care and because I want us to be back to how we were, but I need your apology. That wa-"

Sara's words were abruptly cut off by Michael who violently slammed a gun on top of the table and his icy orbs looked in Sara's way just in time to see her jump in surprise. The moment her hazel eyes seized up the revolver her pupils dilated and suddenly everything seemed as if it was out of reality. Nor the gun nor his awfully cold expression seemed real.

There was a sudden loud ringing in her ears that seemed to pierce through her head painfully as her eyes moved from the gun to Michael's eyes. What she saw genuinely scared Sara Tancredi. His orbs were icy and chilling, holding a challenge and a determination in them that sent chills down her spine. This man that was standing across from her wasn't her husband. This was some stranger that Sara had no idea of and she wanted to be as far away from him as she could.

Was this some joke? Did Michael do this purposely just to scare the hell out of his wife? Was he playing a game or something, cus if he was, it wasn't funny at all. Sara couldn't actually believe her eyes. Michael was just sitting there, looking at her with such a cool expression, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a hand resting close next to the revolver.

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