Love Me

32

ROSHNI'S P.O.V

"Daksh," I whispered, but he pressed his finger against my lips.

"Let's talk later," he said firmly, placing me gently into the bathtub.

"I'm sorry... I was just angry at that time, that's why I—"

"Roshni, first take bath. Let's have breakfast, and then we'll talk." His voice was calm, too calm. And that terrified me more than if he had shouted.

What am I even going to say about this? Why can't I control my anger? If he learns the real reason... I don't know what he'll do.

Prepare yourself, Roshni. This is your doing. And why are these marks still visible? God, save me today. I swear, I won't touch the blades again.

"Roshni, come out when you're done." From the outside, his voice came steady and collected.

He’s so calm... and that’s scaring me more than his anger ever could.

"Daksh... can you come inside?" I called softly after wrapping myself in a towel.

He walked in, his expression unreadable. Without saying a word, he scooped me up and carried me to the bed.

A second later, his T-shirt landed on my head.

"Why are you giving me a T-shirt? Give me proper clothes we’re going out, right?" I muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. I already knew what I’d see there: his glare.

"Wear it. If not, stay like this," he said coldly.

I pulled his T-shirt on. It hung loose on me, almost slipping off my shoulder. Wearing only that felt strange, exposed.

He sat directly in front of me, his gaze piercing.

"When. And why?" he asked bluntly.

I bit my lip. "Can we talk about this after going back? Please... I don’t want to spoil the mood here."

"I asked you something, Roshni," he snapped.

Just then, my stomach growled. Embarrassing but it saved me for the moment.

"I’m hungry. Can we have some food first?" I whispered, eyes downcast.

He exhaled slowly, then picked up his phone, ordering room service. A few minutes later, he hung up.

"Done. Now tell me when did you start using that blade on yourself?" His voice was sharp, each word restrained. I could see him struggling not to lose his temper.

"I... I... D-don’t..."

"Speak properly!" His raised tone made me flinch.

"After Mom and Dad’s accident," I whispered.

His jaw tightened. "And when was the last time?"

"When you scolded me in front of the class," I admitted, my voice was shaking. A lie won’t work. Not with him.

His hand clenched into a fist. "Don’t tell me you did it out of anger."

I nodded, unable to look at him.

His control snapped. "How many times, Roshni? And why?" His voice thundered through the room.

Tears spilled from my eyes. "I’m sorry. I haven’t touched it for months. And I swear I’m not planning to ever again!" My voice broke as I pinched my neck to swear.

"You cut your thighs whenever you were angry. How can you be so sure you’ll never be angry again? Who even thinks of such a thing? If you’re angry, fight with me! Argue with me! Break everything in the house if you want! But cutting yourself?!" He grabbed the collar of his own T-shirt which I was wearing and yanked me closer, his eyes blazing.

I shut my eyes, turning my face away. "I’m sorry..." I sobbed, clinging to him in a desperate hug, hoping to calm him.

But he pushed me off.

"So it’s me, right? I’m the reason for your anger every time? So it's the reason why you used to be locked in the bathroom for an hour or so. I should have listened to the aunty when she told me it's strange that you spend so long in the bathroom." His voice dropped, quieter now, but even heavier. "Stay away from me. And when we go back, I want every single thing that has a blade in it locked in my locker."

He walked away, dropping onto the couch, his back turned to me.

Trying to ease the heavy silence, I murmured, "Why don’t you go out... take a walk around here?"

He snapped instantly, his voice raw. "Why? So you can use a blade again the moment I leave?"

The knock at the door interrupted us.

"I’ll get it," I said quickly. "Calm down. I told you I don’t do it anymore." I got off the bed but hissed as pain shot through my legs after just a few steps.

"Stay in bed," he ordered, throwing the blanket over me to cover me up.

Breakfast arrived, and I ate quietly, trying to act normal. Daksh didn’t touch his food, only sat there... glaring.

"Why don’t you try some bites? It tastes good." I held out a spoon toward him.

He didn’t move. His eyes just pinned me in place.

"Fine... don’t take it, your bad," I said weakly, stuffing the spoon in my own mouth.

I held out my glass. "You want this drink? It’ll cool your head, which is clearly too hot right now." But as his glare deepened, I quickly gulped it down myself.

"Daksh... you’re overreacting. It was in the past. I haven’t done it for over a month. Why are you acting like this?" My voice cracked, even as I tried to sound brave.

He leaned forward, voice like ice. "When you were angry, you still thought carefully enough to avoid cutting your hands because it would be visible. So you chose your thighs instead. You thought about that. But not once did you think that you shouldn’t cut at all."

I lowered my head. "I’m sorry."

"Accept your sorry? Fine. Go back in the past and stop yourself. Make sure you don't hurt yourself, then I’ll accept it." He stretched out on the couch, closing his eyes.

"Daksh..." I whispered, tiptoeing toward him. I sat down on the floor in front of him, tugged at my ears, and whispered again, "I’m sorry."

His eyes opened slowly, staring into mine.

"You were angry. I understand. Everyone gets angry. But not everyone cuts themselves. You didn’t just do it out of anger, Roshni. You did it out of anger and... embarrassment, didn’t you?"

His head tilted back against the couch. "Let’s talk later. My head is hurting."

My heart squeezed. "It’s my mistake. I know you don’t like being scolded in front of others. Still, I provoked you. I didn’t think of the consequences."

He turned his head away, voice harsh. "It's all my fault."

I grabbed his hand. "No. It’s not your fault."

He pulled it away. His eyes burned into mine. "Then tell me the reason. Then I’ll finally know why you did this... this to yourself."