Yᴏᴜʀs ᴛʀᴜʟʏ | Cʜɪsʜɪʏᴀ Sʜᴜɴᴛᴀʀᴏ̄

chapter forty three

"It's my fault I took you seriously."

Chapter 43

Aina sighed heavily at the sight of his message, letting more tears escape from behind her lids. She knew he was right.

She will be thinking about the whole thing for a very long time.

Day after day, night after night.

But she wasn't sure if he would do the same. But he was probably not satisfied by the situation in which they both found themselves.

After all, would he show up on the street she lives on if he didn't want to solve it?

She didn't know what to think about that. It all happened too quickly. She was in such a shock that she didn't remember half of the things that happened a moment ago.

All she remembered was looking into his slightly reddened eyes, through which small strands of his wet blond hair fell.

She remembered the skin of his face covered in raindrops rolling down to his neck.

She also remembered how his chest heaved up and down was too visible.. the way his throat tightened with every word she spoke.

She remembered the feeling she felt looking at him at that moment. Despite what she was telling him, she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, lay her head against his chest and hear his heart beating loudly.

She didn't do it for just one reason. She was aware of her worth and knew to keep her distance even though her heart wept for his presence.

But what she didn't know was that when Chishiya came home, he was thinking about all the things he had done wrong.

Above all the things he could have done differently. Which he could do so as not to hurt her with them.

But he never knew how to help himself. He couldn't control how he felt. All this time he was afraid to reveal what was hidden inside him. He's still afraid of it, that's why he was silent even today when Aina hinted to him to let her go.

Just like her, he knew she was probably right. That's why he didn't hold her any longer and watched as she slowly disappeared before his eyes. He was aware that he was hurting her, but he couldn't help it and still couldn't stop thinking about her.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter and resting his hands on it. His breathing was irregular and the corners of his lips flickered downwards, indicating how his body was resisting the surge of grief.

He wiped his wet face with the sleeve of his hoodie, which had water droplets mixed with tears. He ran his hand through his hair and slowly walked to the bathroom, where he opened the shower door.

With the movement of one finger, he let the water flow, which he let drain, for now he took off his hoodie and finally his black t-shirt.

He desperately leaned his hands against the sink cabinet, opposite which was a mirror that was slowly misting from the hot water flowing from the faucet.

He sighed heavily and then took off his black pants and underwear, which he threw on the ground right next to his hoodie and T-shirt.

He entered the shower so that the stream of running water hit his hair, the bangs of which he gently combed back with his fingers.

He thought about her again. About her and how she makes him feel. It was strange to know that despite the pain, they were still attracted more and more to each other.

That's why he had no idea before that she could drive him away like that. He suddenly found himself with a few tears falling from his eyes, but this time he didn't mind. Even so, he ran his fingers over his eyes and sighed loudly, tilting his head back, letting the drops of water fall directly onto his face.