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𖥔 ꧁ ❦ ꧂ 𖥔
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July 19, 2005
TUESDAY
He was staring at me, no glasses, no nothing. Just this arctic colour looking at me so coldly that brought shivers to my skin. It made me wonder if I've done something to garner this reaction from him.
"We need to talk." It was short and to the point, his tone as cold as his eyes.
About what?
His gaze held myriad of emotions; anger, fear, worry...Though the reason they were directed at me was unknown. He was standing still, towering over me, stance uptight and pressuring. It was a bit threatening and I didn't like that.
"No." I said just as coldly.
It seemed this was my only reaction to him, immediate rejection. I didn't want to do anything with him, I didn't want guilt to eat me away. So I moved around him, his stature having blocked my way previously. Though before I could move further, I felt a jabbing pain on my right arm as he grabbed my broken wrist, a low cry escaping me.
"I won't take that for an answer."
"Well, I don't care."
For a moment there was silence, no one said anything more. My wrist was held hostage, pain burning me viciously, yet I didn't turn to look at him, my back still hiding my face from his view. He sighed. I could feel some tension leaving his body, but his grip remained iron, like he was afraid I would disappear or run away.
"It's serious," he said more softly this time, "and you owe me some explanations."
Why do they always expect something from me?
"I don't owe you anything." My tone didn't change.
His grip tightened and the pain intensified. A second latter I found myself in an unfamiliar room, my back touching the door as he had turned me around, his face centimetres away from mine. One hand was holding my wrist while the other was placed beside my head on the surface of the door. He had caged me completely and I was too tired to try fight my way out of the situation.
