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— 𖤐 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :
Am I possessed? Possibly.
Did she ask that stupid manager of the restaurant where we had breakfast this morning to add something to my coffee?
How did I, in my right mind, ended up inviting the problem to my house?
The words seemed to escape my mouth before I even realized it.
Maybe it was the way she rushed towards me in the parking lot, looking utterly devastated, and then how she cried like a baby.
The tears were real, unlike the theatrical act she put on yesterday, the look in her eyes made it clear.
Her tear-streaked face stirred something in my chest. It wasn't pity, not even close. I felt a fiery anger rising within me, a strong desire to fucking destroy whoever had caused her tears.
The idiotic grin suited her better, not the tears.
I can't comprehend this strange foreign feeling of wanting to protect her.
This girl is beyond infuriating.
For fuck sake, I only met her yesterday and I've never felt this tangled up in anything as much as I'm in her chaos.
I can't for the life of me figure out why I couldn't just drive away from the airport.
I had this nagging feeling that something was wrong and the fact that she didn't have her passport had me on edge.
What in the fucking world is happening to me?
Why couldn't I just leave?
Just when I was thinking why I was so concerned about her, I found her phone in the car—a reason for me to turn back to the airport and I hadn't even left the airport premises in the first place.
I might need to schedule a check-up for myself because I'm clearly not fine.
My head feels like it's about to explode and the girl sitting beside me in the passenger seat is casually munching on her fucking dark chocolate.
As if she hadn't just hugged me.
That damn hug.
I should have pushed her away the moment she wrapped her arms around my neck, but I froze, like a fucking idiot and my heart decided that was the perfect time to go haywire, as it thundered so loudly as if I'm about to have a stroke or something.
She quickly pulled away from the hug, and a delicate pink painted her pale cheekbones, highlighting her soft tiny freckles.
And I hated myself for observing so much.
Even now as she eats her dark chocolate, I could tell that she's feigning nonchalance, her cheeks are still a deep shade of pink, and her hands are slightly trembling around the wrapper.
