"You said you love me? Then beg for it. Beg for my love. Show me-prove it again and again until I say yes."
Beatrix is a girl of few words, someone who keeps her emotions locked away, unwilling to let anyone close. After experiencing deep trust issu...
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Ethan :
After hours of aimless wandering, I finally made the decision to return. At first, I had convinced myself that Beatrix's behavior was just a result of too much to drink, a fleeting moment of reckless abandon. But what she had said this morning still echoed in my mind, a haunting refrain that refused to fade.
I had walked away from her at that moment, barely managing to keep my emotions in check. I couldn't risk saying something I might regret, something that could hurt her. Yet now, as I replayed everything in my head, a gnawing sense of guilt consumed me. I should have stayed. Should have talked to her. Leaving her there, alone in that vulnerable state—had that really been the right choice? I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd failed her.
When I stepped into my apartment, I flicked on the light and surveyed the room. The table was cleared, everything neatly put away. Beatrix must have cleaned up before she left.
"You're back," came a voice, soft but steady, as the light flickered to life.
Beatrix sat on the bed, her phone casually resting in her hands, her gaze flickering between the screen and me.
The first thought that hit me was, Don't tell me she's still clinging to that ridiculous decision of hers. A tight knot formed in my chest at the very idea.
"Sorry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she set her phone aside. "What I did was wrong. I shouldn't have tried to use you like that." She paused, her eyes meeting mine for a brief, "I didn't think about your feelings."
I stood there, still as stone, my gaze fixed on her. What she said was true—she was right. But my anger had little to do with feeling used. It was about her. The reckless decision she'd made, the mess she'd created for herself.
What if it had been someone else? I wondered. Someone who might have actually taken advantage of her in the way she feared. She should have been consumed by guilt by now, not casually apologizing like this.
Without thinking, I walked over to her and sat down on the floor, facing her.
"Don't do it again," I said, my voice steady but intense. "Not with me. Not with anyone else. No matter how desperate you get." I paused, my grip tightening on her hand as if I could anchor her to this moment. "If anything happens to you, I can't take it."
I felt her hand tremble in mine, but I squeezed it gently, willing her to understand.
"Don't make rash decisions. I know you're strong," I added softly, pushing past the anger and fear that still lingered in me.
Her voice quivered when she spoke again, "You know, I caught my ex-boyfriend with another girl. And when I confronted him, asking why he'd done it, he looked me in the eye and said... It was because of me. He said I had somehow forced him into making that mistake." She paused, her eyes drifting away, "So, I guess... maybe I started thinking everyone is the same. I'm sorry," she whispered.
