"No matter how complicated this gets, I need you."
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
She was not supposed to fall for him.
She was here for a revenge.
She was here to find out the truth.
She was here to get her ass out of the upcoming danger.
Not to get h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
“Can't we just go tomorrow?” I asked, waiting for an answer. We were heading towards the serenity estates and nothing could be more dreadful than that. I had to be there to find out everything. The more I despised that mansion, the more I got attracted to it.
Seconds passed and I didn't hear any response from him so I said, “Alright, we’ll go right now,” opening the door of the passenger seat, I got inside and made myself comfortable in my seat. I wanted to piss him off even though I know the consequences but who am I to stop my intrusive thoughts to win? Absolutely no one.
The car door swung open with a quick, forceful motion. His eyes met mine—cool, distant—and then dropped to where my leg was propped over the headrest. His jaw tightened, his teeth clenching almost imperceptibly.
He closed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the quiet, and walked around the car with deliberate steps. When he reached my side, he opened the door and let his gaze sweep over me, pausing briefly at my chest. He didn’t say a word as he leaned in, his movements careful, controlled, as he reached for the seatbelt.
His fingers brushed against my skin, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine as he pulled the strap across me. He fastened it with a sharp click, the sound cutting through the silence. Our eyes locked again, his dark with a mix of emotions that neither of us wanted to acknowledge.
He came back to his seat and started driving. He made me wear the seatbelt but didn’t bother to put on his own—such double standards, Your Honour.
I looked out of the window as my mind wandered to a specific day: the 16th of September, my 18th birthday, and the last time I had seen him before we completely cut off contact. We never officially broke up; we just parted ways without saying a word to each other.
Eighteen—just a simple number, yet it ruined my life.
An hour before my birthday celebration at his house, he had called me here. I did my best to find out what I could, and I managed to learn his name; Siddharth. No surname or middle name, just Siddharth.
“Ishq?” he called out, his voice soft, cold, and delicate. I looked at him, my lips parted and my eyes blank. Did he really just use that tone and word for me?
“Hmm?” I replied.
“Stop going back to the past,” he said, looking straight at the road. His eyes barely blinked as I kept staring at him. His jaw was clenched, and I could sense his intense side-eye on my legs, which were resting on his headrest. He looked really pissed, yet he was keeping his calm. I quickly took my heels down and observed his face; his jaw was no longer clenched, but he was still clearly very upset.
“I’m not,” I declared. Should I be honest?
“Yeah, right. You weren’t trembling, and it definitely wasn’t you who had goosebumps on her arms,” he retorted, sarcasm dripping from his filthy mouth. The urge to stab him was strong, but sorry, Your Honour, I don't do suicide. Do you get it? No, you don’t get it.
