❝ 𝐌𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚, 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥❞
When 𝐀𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐚, walks into his world, she's nothing but soft edges and shy glances-a girl burdened with debts, abandoned by a father who never cared. She only wants f...
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Teri yaadon se, kab raha mein judaa, waqt se pooch le, waqt mera gawaah
A B H I
How hard could it really be to hate the person who had dismantled my peace piece by piece?
The person who had taken my sleep, my patience, my carefully controlled life, and somehow still managed to stand there every day looking untouched while I struggled to put myself back together.
I used to think hatred was easy, simple. A feeling you could hold onto when everything else became too complicated.
But that was the problem. She had never been simple. Because hatred does not explain addiction.
And that is what she had become. An addiction I never asked for. A presence that slipped into my life quietly, without permission, without warning, until one day I realized I could not remember what my days looked like before her.
She did not haunt me loudly. She didn't have to. She existed in the smallest things. In the silence before I heard her voice.
In the way my attention found her before I even realized I was looking. In the way my hands tightened when she walked past me pretending I meant nothing.
She had this impossible ability to make me feel everything I had spent years trying to bury.
Anger, frustration, want and something far more dangerous. Care. That was the part I hated the most.
The rules must have been very simple: Don't show you care, Don't look into her lips or eyes for more than ten seconds, Tie your hands if you have to but never touch her waist and lose your control.
But it wasn't as simple as that. Because she was my sweet venom. The fact that beneath every argument, every sharp word, every attempt to remind myself that she was the daughter of the man I despised, there was still a part of me that noticed when she looked tired.
When she skipped meals. When her smile was forced. When she pretended she was fine. The truth was unbearable.
She wasn't mine. I knew that. I repeated it enough times that it should have become reality.
But every instinct in me fought against it. Not because I owned her. Not because I had any right to.
But because somewhere between that night and now, she had become the one person who could break through every wall I had built.
And I hated her for that. I hated how easily she affected me.
How she could stand there with that sharp tongue and that stubborn pride, treating me like nothing more than an annoying employee, while I was fighting an entire war inside myself just to act normal.
