There were million little reasons to not love him,
And million little things that I despised now.
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Her:
Unwanted emotions,
I didn't want any of it, any of them.
From the outside, she seems adorned with all that glitters-wealth, celebrity, and...
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Shiloh barks as I head towards the door, attempting to manage my curly hair. "Coming!" I shout, putting as much power as I can muster into my voice.
Placing Shiloh within his dog barrier, I tug the leather jacket down as far as possible. Taking a deep breath, I force a small smile onto my face as my hand reaches for the handle, and I pull the door open.
My eyes widened in surprise at the person in front of me, and I felt my insides being set to fire once again. The guilt crept back, crawling towards me, its presence sending a shiver down my spine as if it whispered, "I would never leave you, princess."
"What are you doing here?" I asked as I leaned against my door, while hoping that I had the most placid look present.
"I—" he stumbles, takes a deep breath, and looks directly into my eyes. "I wanted to check up on you and give you this." He hands me my phone, his eyes wandering over the jacket I'm still wearing.
Well, I did fall asleep in them and just woke up still wearing them, their warmth lingering to provide me solace.
"I—I wanted to know why you ran the way you did last night—what the fuck did you to your wrist!" He gripped my arm and pulled it closer to inspect. I attempted to snatch my arm back, but halted when he gave me a glare. That glare was enough to make me realize that the man in front of me cares about me.
"Shiya how did this happen?" He asks as I sigh.
"Come in first, we live in India; I'm sure I have some noisy neighbors," I say as I snatch my arm back with as much force as I can muster. Shifting a bit, I gesture for him to come inside as I close the door behind us.
Taking careful steps, he moves inside, looking at my interior. Probably noticing how nothing about my house screams home.
"Did you try to—did you try to commit suicide?" He asked with face contracted into a wince as the mere idea disgusts him. Of course it does.
I say nothing, just look down at my bandaged wrist, fiddling with the ends of the cotton.
I feel him step closer to me, a pair of Nike sneakers coming into my view, the hand lays over mine gently as I look up at him, teary eyed. Showing him that I'm scared, scared of everything, scared of myself, for myself.
He pulls me into a tight hug as I start sobbing all over again, while burying my face into his chest and murmuring sorry again and again.
We stayed like that for quite a while as I sobbed, a mix of loud and quiet cries. He allowed me to let it out while running his hand down my hair and patting my back.
Then I stepped away, while wiping my tears with the back of my non injured hand. "I'm sorry for being the source of disgust and pain."
"Disgust? Pain? What the fuck are you talking about Snowdrop?" He moves forward again, as I take a step back in defence as he raises his hands like he is surrendering to me.
