It was two in the morning or three, Brandan didn't have any idea when he made his way back home. He dragged his feet towards his room upstairs. The ache in his heart wouldn't be numbed no matter what. Maybe a precious, venomous, disastrous bottle of scotch would dull this pain but he hadn't touched one of them since that one night.
That one night, memories of which would always stab at his heart whenever he remembered. It was supposed to be his sweetest memory of her. But once again, yes, he had to transform even that too in some kind of a mighty poison that destroyed every thing and every one around him, he didn't know then that he was ruining himself as well in the process. And in the end of it all, upon realizing that the thing he had lost was life itself, he had frantically reached out to grab what was left of it. But it was way too late. The ruination was complete.
He didn't care to give a glance at the dining table on his way, like every night his dinner was there, served and cold. Martha had stopped waiting for him anymore. She knew he was going to be late like always, it was a routine now.
As he slumped into the plush sofa, he chuckled at the peril he had created for himself. God knew that he deserved worse than this. The devil deserved the worst cage of hell. His eyes began drooping close in a minute, the exhaustion of a whole day of impossible workload he drowned himself into began playing it's magic. Before drifting into the clutch of a deep yet restless slumber, Brandan whispered her name and felt his voice trail off.
"Emma..."
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**(Flashback)**
"Emma." Brandan hissed, her name felt like poison on his tongue. Maybe because it tasted sweeter than honey when he uttered the syllable. It was the sugary sweetness of deception, he decided. Immediately he wanted to spat in disgust.
Emma hesitated for a while before stammering. "I... Bran..."
Feeling extremely irritated at the stammering and mumbling with that silly tone of hers, Brandan snapped. "Stop your stupid stammering and why the hell are you in my room?"
Emma looked away from him, flinching at his raised tone.
"Robert... he asked me to give you this file." She manged to reply in a low voice which barely could be heard.
His jaw tightened. "And you came running here! How many times I have to tell you that I don't like seeing that ugly face of yours. NOW, GET OUT... right now."
Emma bit her lip, like always she tried to stop the tears but a stubborn droplet escaped somehow. Not giving him the pleasure to see her tears, keeping the file on the table she whirled around and ran away.
Brandan groaned, he didn't want to be this harsh with her but he had no choice. The almighty Robert Rozario. His dear dad was hell bent on getting the both of them married, as soon as possible. How could he marry this girl? How could he? This would be a disgrace to his reputation. What would his friends think about him? Everyone would laugh at him. This was not even the age to marry, freaking hell - he had to yet to complete college.
Emma was the nerd in the college, the same college he read in. Being the popular guy, girls fell on Brandan's feet to take them and the guys around him were always jealous, he was the it guy in the campus. His friends had been bullying Emma- the so called neighbor of his since what seemed like forever. A damned cursed forever in that case. He never joined his friends in the entertainment but he never stopped them too, feeling guilty was out of the window. Why would he care for someone who didn't even know how to stand for herself? And about her dress sense, those baggy clothes and all. Please!!
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You're Still The One *slowly editing* (Completed)
ChickLit'You didn't answer my question,' he asked, holding her gaze in his hypnotic ones. 'Wh... what question?' She was surprised at her own voice, it sounded like of someone else's. She wanted to ask him--which question, there were so many he had asked he...
