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P.O.V Angelina
Oh hell no.
I'd rather swim an ocean than talk to Nicolas if he's giving me that look. The intensity in his gaze sends shivers down my spine, making me prefer the vast expanse of water over a conversation with him.
I just walked downstairs after spending the whole day avoiding him. As soon as I came inside I went straight to my room, but later when I heard a car drove off I thought he left but here he was in his full glory staring at me.
I wanted to turn back so bad but I knew he would call me back, the only reason I came downstairs was to get water that's all, now I'm stuck completely froze by his gaze. And I'd conclude that we probably wouldn't move from here unless someone walked through that door.
"Hi." I said not being able to take the silence anymore, "I just came for water, I'll be gone soon."
He didn't utter a word, just observed me as I took a sip of water with those piercing eyes. The intensity in his gaze made me feel like every movement was being examined.
When I was finished I attempted to go back to my room, trying not to make anything awkward but I was stopped.
"Where are you going?" He asked so calmly it actually made me scared.
"Um... upstairs."
"I said I wanted to talk to you."
Yes I remember that, but I certainly don't want to talk to you, is what I don't tell him. Instead I said nothing at all.
"Come here please."
"Nicolas please I don't wanna talk." and in that moment he was already on his feet, it was like he knew what I was going to say before I even said it.
"Why not." He asked almost instantly, his eyes fixed on mine searching for answers.
I couldn't believe he was even asking that question. I had thousands even millions of answers to that question. I didn't want to talk because I hated looking at him, because he made my life worse, not only that but he used me, and not only for whatever he was looking for but also for his own benefit, he mocked me and maybe because I just fucking hated him.
I hated the way he looked at me, the way his eyes show some sign of emotion that I know is not real, that can't be real, the way that I actually felt like giving into his hug yesterday and the way he randomly appears in my dreams -nightmares-.
It all makes me feel so weak and gullible, I hated the fact that after all these months I... I still...
"Angelina." I heard him say cutting off my thoughts.
"I don't want to talk to you. Not now." I whispered barely above a mummer.
I can't talk to him, not like this, because right now I can feel tears ready to fall, and I'm not ready to be comforted by him.
As I turned to walk away, my steps faltered, my hand being grabbed. I pulled away, the touch feeling like an intrusion into the fragile walls I had built around my emotions.
"Please, just listen," he pleaded, his voice tinged with urgency and concern, trying to bridge the gap I had created between us.
"No!" I finally broke, "Do you know what it's like to stay in a house with you. If you didn't know I'll tell because it hurts. I spent a whole year trying to get over you, and when I think I'm finally making progress you pop up in my fucking dreams, then I'm back here. I don't want to be here Nicolas. Because you're going to try and use me again and I'm not falling for it!" I poked my finger at his chest, "You don't know what it's like to actually love someone so much and then they go and hurt you. You did that to me! You knew what you were doing when you hurt me. So don't try and come back here and use me again because I know when you're faking it!" I shouted the last sentence louder than usual.
In that moment, it was like I was drowning, drowning in the truth and drowning in my tears. I didn't even know when I started crying, but here I am, and I feel weak.
My legs feel like they're about to buckle up on me, like I'm about to fall to the floor, lost in this sea of overwhelming emotions that threaten to engulf me entirely. The weight of it all presses down on my chest, making every breath a struggle, every heartbeat a reminder of the pain that courses through me.
It was like I was on the brink of collapsing, my legs giving out beneath me. But right before I hit the ground, his hand reached out, grabbing me and pulling me close to his chest. And there, in that embrace, I let all my tears pour out, tears streaming down my face onto his shirt. He gently wrapped his arms around me, his touch burning yet so comforting, as he softly stroked my hair. In that moment, it felt like the world faded away, leaving just the two of us in this room.
The sound of the door closing reminded me that the guys had already reached back. I only realized half way through my 'breakdown'.
But at this point it didn't matter.
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