Hey Pretty Stranger

・❥・ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ-8 Feeling at fault

Max's pov

"Ow ow ow ouch."

I rolled my eyes at Ben's unnecessary melodrama as I applied ointment to his bruised and black eye.

"Do it slowly, you dipshit," he cried in pain.

I grunted, "You can do it yourselves if you've got so many complaints. Who told you to get beaten in the first place?"

"Look who's talking. I got beaten because of you, fucker." He raised his leg to kick me for the seventh time but winced when the pain in his arm returned.

"Tsk tsk, how pathetic," I muttered.

"Bloody bastard," he just replied to my comment because he couldn't hit me. "Do you even know how many places they hit me at? Jesus, I don't even want to recall that. You should thank God that I'm not killing you for making me suffer like this," he grumbled.

"Yeah okay," I packed the aid box and stood up to place it back in its place.

"The only nice thing about today was her," he said.

I confusingly glanced back at him to ask what he meant. But he already looked like he was in a far away place.

He continued to say in a daze, "You know, she had these long glistening dark violet hairs and breathtaking violet eyes with a total wildness in them. A total hot mess, that she was when she glared down at me ferociously. A violent violet beauty which I couldn't take my eyes off..."

Does he even know what he's saying? A violent violet beauty seriously? I stared at him as he trailed off and sat in a daze with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Dude?" I called him suspiciously. "Did you fall in love with one of Sarah's friend?"

"What?" He jumped up abruptly but sat down again wincing and rubbing his side. "What the fuck are you saying? Don't you have any shame? I already have a girlfriend!" He yelled.

"Oh I forgot you were still stuck with a makeup kit," I said innocently.

"Douchebag, don't call her that. Whatever she does I don't care. All that matters is that she loves me," he replied.

"Oh really?" I raised one brow at him.

God I'm so fucking fed up with this delusion of his. I can't tolerate it anymore.

"Then tell me, when was the last time she called you by herself?"

He hesitated, "That-"

"And when was the last time she asked you about how your day went?"

"That I-"

"And when was the last time she said she missed you?"

"Okay shut up asshole!" He yelled and looked at me angrily. Closing his eyes he sighed, leaning back on the headrest of the couch. "I agree that she doesn't show any signs of love to me. And she's rude at times too. But," he opened his eyes glancing at me with a strained smile on his face which didn't reach his eyes, "I'm sure she loves me the same way I love her."

Get out of your fucking imagination bubble and wake up!

I wanted to shake him so badly and shout this at his face but looking at the expressions he had, all my anger turned into empathy.

Oh Ben...I wish I could pull you out of this toxic relationship. She's not gonna love you back buddy, not in this life at least.

I curse the moment she met him. Of course she didn't act like a bitch back then and she helped him when he was in his bad times. Probably because she was so nice to him, he fell for her and that bastard ended up proposing her. If only she had rejected...