Umm-I-Can we talk?" He slides his hand into his pocket, staring at me silently.
I nervously bite my lower lip and take a peek at this tall man whose eyes are piercing through me. Each slow step he takes toward me makes my knees buckle.
I gulp and take a step back. He rolls his eyes at my reaction but turns to hold the doorknob. Realizing he wants to leave, I grab his arm, my tear-filled eyes pleading with him. His cold indifference is breaking my heart.
"Please...I am sorry," I mumble, clutching his strong, muscular arm, which I can barely grip. He stays silent, his eyes locked on mine, his mouth a tight line.
Desperate, I drop his hand from the knob and push him lightly on the chest, forcing him to face me. "I am sorry," I repeat, my voice trembling.
An ugly sob escapes my lips, and I tremble, trying to keep my sobs low. Zaarib's tense posture makes me feel even worse. When he gently touches my elbows, I take it as permission to collapse against him.
His manly scent drives me crazy, and I sob harder at my stupidity and his painful indifference. I wrap my tiny arms around his waist and squeeze him, resting my head on his chest. His rapid heartbeat matches mine, a chaotic rhythm of our emotions.
Is it anger? Or something else?
I squeeze him tighter, silently crying. When he doesn't hug me back, my heart aches with guilt and hurt. "Don't ignore me. I hate this. I am sorry I'm an idiot. You should have just slapped me when I yelled at you and said those horrible things while you were only worried about me," I whisper, my voice breaking with each word.
Lifting my chin, I search his eyes for a response. His soft grey eyes meet mine, filled with conflicting emotions. "I am sorry," I repeat, my voice barely a whisper. He chuckles bitterly, shaking his head with a small, sad smile.
"Shh...stop crying," he says, his voice softer now, as he gently brushes my tears away. His touch, tender and familiar, only makes me want to cry more.
"Come on, stop crying now. I forgave you. You know I have a big heart," he teases, pulling me closer with a protective arm around my waist.
He brushes my hair back and gently rubs my back, careful not to make me uncomfortable. His touch is a mix of restraint and care, not wanting to overstep but also not pushing me away.
"I was scared. I thought you'd never talk to me again," I sob, feeling like a child. And I hate myself for being this weak. He chuckles softly, tightening his hold on me, his anger slowly melting away, replaced by a reluctant tenderness.
I pull my head from his chest to look at him. "Next time I speak rubbish, just yell at me or throw me on the bed, or just—just slap me to make me understand where I went wrong. B-but be a little gentle, my cheeks are a bit soft and sensitive. I'll get your handprints if you use too much force," I mumble, regretting it the second I ask him to slap me. But he only laughs at that.
"I won't slap you when you make a mistake, sweetheart. I'm not that cruel," he smiles at me. And I couldn't help but shyly return his smile, my heart skipping, flipping, and doing all sorts of acrobatics when he presses his lips on my forehead, making it flutter even more.
"And I know how sensitive your skin is; my lips discovered that," he whispers right in my ear before pressing a gentle kiss on my cheek.
Intimate. The word screams through his actions, and my whole body reacts by shuddering in his arms.
This feeling is so unfamiliar, but I'm enjoying it as if it's something I've known forever.
He then presses a tight kiss on my forehead before joking, "But yeah, I might slap you if you skip your meals." I giggle at that but nod while looking down, feeling like a shy teen after the kiss, which has my heart, soul, and entire body's approval.
YOU ARE READING
A Pretty Lie ✔️
Romantizm'Every boy is a player, Until... He meets his true one' ... "Come on Inaya! You just have to pretend" he whines trying his best to convince the girl. "Pretending also comes under the category of lying" he rolls his eyes till the back of his head if...
