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— 𖤐 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐇𝐀'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :
Many people say Donkeys are the ones who praise themselves.
Call me a donkey, I don't give a damn, but truth be told—I'm a real perfectionist.
Zara's not-so-sweetheart, and absolute 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐳 with a frosty gaze of a brother, is a straight-up brute.
[ impolite]
I never thought I could despise someone at first sight, especially within just a few minutes, but let me tell you, my hatred for Zayran Malik knows no bounds already.
The guy is the epitome of arrogance, rudeness, and coldness.
I mean, his glares could freeze the sun itself. They are intense which can make your skin heat like it's on fire and yet at the same time give you chills.
I've tried everything – actions, pleas – but the arrogant Asshole just keeps on with his 'get out, get out, get out' mantra.
I swear, I wouldn't sacrifice my self-respect to live in his damn property if I had any other friends.
Coming back to why I called myself a perfectionist earlier—because I can pull off literally anything.
When I was a little kid, I dreamed of being an actress. I've practiced a lot in front of a mirror as if I'm some main character of a movie.
When the big bully cornered me, pinning me against the wall with his hand around my throat, my initial instinct was to kick him in the balls.
However, I knew it wouldn't make a difference. The Antarctica jerk would just keep on with his 'get out' mantra.
So, I decided to play it smart—I pulled out the 'stupid Girl card.'
I dropped my gaze, put on a sad face, thinking about how mean my dad can be. Tears welled up my eyes too quickly and I made it even more dramatic by trembling my chin and sobbing loudly.
As expected, the brute was taken aback and immediately released his grip on me.
He looks shocked, as if it's the last thing on Earth he ever expected. I smirk internally.
"Why the heck are you crying?"
I let out an ugly, loud, almost dramatic sob, sliding down the wall—leaving behind all the overacting actors.
I close my eyes, letting the tears flow freely.
"Okay, enough with the tears! Why are you even fucking crying at the first place?"
I immediately get up and stand too close to him, poking my forefinger into his chest, adding a touch of over-the-top drama.
"Why are you asking? You don't care anyway. You want me to leave, right? Okay I will. But if anything were to happen to me, you'd bear the responsibility. Moreover, if my father's men find me, they'll kill me brutally and you'll be the sole reason." Tears stream down my face, as I glare at him dramatically.
