The Last Wish

16. The Mere Satisfaction of Payback

"She wore darkness like some girls wear a small black dress"

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Words. Could either make or break you. Belle, being the odd fish out of the bowl, was left stranded alone in the middle of the crossroad that decided her future. All because of what he said.

Was she desperate enough to give him what he wanted?

Or was she strong enough to let go and face everything again?

She looked up at him, only to find him already gazing down at her from under his dark lashes. Her blood was boiling under her hide. Every word she'd efficiently constructed was forgotten from their close proximity.

She stepped back, distancing herself from the devil's fragrance that smelled nothing but wrath.

"W-what makes you think I'm a v-virgin?" she internally face palmed for all the stuttering and stammering, it made it obvious.

"This," he said pointing at her. He stepped forward, his thumb mindlessly stroking the back of her hand gently, "everything about you speaks innocence."

She peeled his hand away from hers with much disgust. "I'm not what you think I am."

"There goes the cliché lines. 'I'm not what you think I am'," he mocked, airing quotation marks on what she said. The earlier gentleness he had, vanished without a sign left.

"I-," she started.

"I got you there," he said walking away from her towards the closet. Did she hear him right?

"What?"

"I don't repeat," he said. He opened the closet and started rummaging through the clothes, some thrown behind him. "Many people don't have the luxury of time to meddle over everything and anything," he stopped and turned around, "and in your case, ogling over someone's body."

"I didn't do that," she protested, ducking in time to avoid the boxer flying towards her. "What's wrong with you?"

"Many, but that's none of your concerns."

"Huh?" she gaped at him dubiously. "I don't understand what you mean."

"All the better," he stood up with a brown leather jacket hanging over his shoulder. He walked over to the mirror and started examining his ultra perfect hair.

"Are you going somewhere?" she asked quickly.

He turned around slowly, "I need to pee. And the commode likes me dressed up."

Her face scrunched in horrifying confusion, "are you serious?"

He exhaled, preceded by a string of colourful curses muttered under his breath. "Who am I kidding?"

He tread to the door with the grace of a cat. She trotted after him, the pain in her right hip accentuating.

Grasping her right hip tightly she called after him. "Wait! I'm coming with you."

He turned around abruptly with a horrified face and she stopped in time before bumping on him

"Don't you dare follow me," he growled.

For a moment she was occupied in a mind battle of taking her chance. But decided to take the bait.

Matt's hand went to the handle but was halted when her petite fingers wrapped around his wrist. He gritted his teeth and directed his glare at her.