Love Hard

Chapter 8

"I'm tough, I'm ambitious, and I know exactly what I want. If that makes me a bitch, okay."
―Madonna

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Songs of this chapter- What Did She Say- Jason Derulo

                                              Everything At Once- Lenka

                                                 What The Hell- Avril

 ( Song suggestions are welcome)

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Picture on the side- Armel (Proulx)

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"Move your hand", his words were slow, menacing like he chose them to threaten me. Being threatened however isn't something I permit myself to, so instead of moving my hand, I pushed it further and this time I looked him straight in the eye. It's funny how anger, your worst enemy in the opinion of world renowned yogic gurus, makes you overcome your deepest fears. My fear wasn't huge, but big or small fear is fear and his arrogance, his apathy helped him look up and tell him through my silence, my demeanor that I wasn't the one he could order around.

His expression made it clear that I took him by surprise, which I believe is a good thing. He gave me an odd look which I couldn't quite place.

"I said move yo-", he began to say but I beat him to it.

"I heard what you said", I flat out stated. "And I said we need to talk."

I could feel many eyes on us. Fabulous, now we have started to attract a crowd. This isn't how I pictured this conversation in my head. All because of this stubborn scorn-face. 

He seemed irritated. I couldn't care less, when I say we talk. We talk. Period

"Listen you", he suddenly grabbed my hand by which I was holding him back, "do I look like the talking types to you?" His voice was barely a whisper, though it was still enough to send a chill sliding down my spine. 

I gulped slowly and lowered my head. "You don't look like the saving types either", I looked up with as much confidence as I could muster, which to be honest wasn't much. "But looks can be deceiving" I added.

His grip on my hand softened. "Mine are not", his statement was crystal clear but his words seemed hollow.

Liar.

"That night sure as hell wasn't a product of my imagination. I wasn't dreaming. I saw you, heard you. If your looks aren't deceiving then I suppose this", I eyed him from head to toe, "this is what kindness and secrets look like. Some arrogance and some fear looks like."

He smirked at me.

Malice.

"You can't be more wrong", he said in a monotone.

"Some lies and some cowardice looks like." I emphasized each and every word with precision. 

He tightened his grip on my hand all of a sudden, cutting my blood circulation. 

"I'm not a coward." His voice cut through the air, loud and clear.

"Let go of my hand", I pushed him using my free hand in an attempt to dis-balance him. It was a futile effort of course as he didn't even budge.