Find me

12.

All I wanted to do was just cry and cry and cry. Even though I had cried about this for about a million hours before. But I do not know from where I found the strength to stop the flow from my eyes and stiffen myself up but I did. 

I really wanted to just run away fast and far, from him. There was a repulsion I felt but it wasn't that strong. Another part of me wanted revenge, to be honest. And he saw all of this in my eyes. This range of thoughts was beyond my conscious control and I felt stuck in a trance. His eyes carefully observed me and his eyes blinked faster. "Are you angry?" he asked.

"Yes." I snapped in his face. He flinched back by my volume but regained himself soon.

"What do I do? Tell me, please. How do I make it upto you?" He asked.

"Just leave me alone." I said and jerked my hand successfully out of his grip.

I didn't look back once and just left.

The next day, I was sure to visit him but I made sure I did not have any space to converse with him. But as soon as I had walked down the staircase, his cook called out my name. I had an idea why and I thought of something to deny. fail. 

"He's calling for you." 

I politely smiled at her trying too hard to suppress my fury but eventually walked back up the stairs.

I stood in his doorway with my arms across my chest. "What do you want, now?"

He turned his head to me and his eyes played with my emotions. I was vulnerable enough to give in but I was strong enough to beat that. For moments, he just looked at me thinking of something speakable enough to say. While, I thought about just running out on him. 

"Please, don't make this harder for me. I'm trying hard to apologize. You know I'm trying." he uttered, his voice muting in syllables due to a heavily sore throat.

"I-I can't forgive you...I can't just simply forget the agony you put me through. Everytime I look at you, I'm reminded of it. And clearly this conversation is over now. There's nothing more to say. So, please stop." I said firmly and turned, asserting my finality.

"Please, please, I beg you. Stay." 

I stilled in my tracks.

"I have no reason to stay. My work is done. I'm leaving." I really wanted to just get away. Without giving it a second, I put my words in action and had only just taken one step when I heard his voice.

"Well, if you only need a reason-

Bang.

"-here it is."

My eyes widened as I turned frantically, obviously too late to stop the damage. I realized he had mercilessly banged a long side-table vase straight into his injured ankle deliberately. He dropped the vase in a moment of excruciating pain and it rolled on the floor all the way towards me and stopped near my feet.

I instinctively ran to him, trying to decipher what he had really done to himself. 

There was a stream of blood around his foot and he was clutching his hair in both hands, his eyes squeezed shut, his breathing out of line and groaned deeply several times trying to combat the raging pain.

Idiot.

" Oh my gosh, Neymar. Are you crazy? What have you done?" I spoke while racing my mind. I had to do something quick. He was trapped in acute pain. I doubted to hear another word from him. 

I finally moved and found a washcloth. I held it against the wound to stop the bleeding. But it took a lot of time. Neymar had thrown himself back down into lying position. By the time the bleeding stopped, my hands, my jeans, his foot and his bedsheet were all drenched in red. My heart was racing as the situation was making me anxious.

The white washcloth had no traces of its original color anymore. It was dripping red.

I had to clean and dress his ankle again. He was slightly shaking all over and was fidgeting impatiently, groaning through the pain. I wanted to smack the daylights out of him to do such a thing but I silently did my job. 

I again went to the bathroom to wash the blood off my hands and when I came I was ready to lash out on him, scold him. But just looking at his vulnerable state stopped me from doing so. His face was wet again and I realized he had been crying. He was still in pain, I could tell.

Whatever just happened, I analysed, was dangerous. The team can't afford suicidal tendencies in its key players. Moreover, the reason behind it being me, could have me rendered jobless and on the streets in a matter of moments. I realized the need to be careful around him. The bottom line was, I had to forgive him, atleast verbally, to keep his head straight. 

"Neymar." I guided his hands back down, freeing his grip on his hair. I slightly pressed my palm on his forehead to calm him. "Is the pain subsiding?"

"Yea-" he breathed out the word. Well, almost.

I made him swallow a painkiller after he managed to sit back up. 

"I can't believe you could do this." I told him.

He just stayed silent looking straight ahead.

"Alright." I spoke. "You're quite stubborn. I-I'll do whatever you want." I can't believe I was giving in so easily but I wasn't doing this for me.

He shifted his gaze to me and I could sense the shine in his eyes. "Does that mean that you actually forgive me?" He asked. 

"I'll try my best."

He coughed a bit and started blinking faster again. "I don't know if I should tell you this, but..its not the first time I've done something like this to someone."

I was instantly freaked out. The first thought my mind harnessed was 'psychopath'.

He looked up at me trying to gather an assumption of a reaction. When I didn't utter a word, he continued, "And it never bothered me. But with you, I felt so guilty, it didn't let me sleep-"

My thoughts were sensing a potential trap. A lie. 

"-I don't want you to just forgive me for the sake of saying so let me take you out sometime."

Definitely a trap.

"No." I said.

"But why not?"

"I don't want anything beyond profession, between you and me and may I remind you, the last time you took me out, it ended quite badly. So, no." I asserted.

"Alright for now but I'll keep asking you till you say yes."

Stubborn.

I suddenly felt suffocated and wanted more than anything to leave. "Can I go, now? I'm late."

"Okay. But will you come tomorrow?"

" I have to."

"Okay "

I rushed out of there as soon as I could. The minute I exited the house, I breathed in fresh air. I felt like crying again but I controlled myself. I didn't feel any better talking to him. I only felt forced and that didn't do any justice to my feelings. I was fully analysing the amount of stress I was in while I was with him and it was a bloody lot. He was definitely capable of manipulating situations in his favour. And I felt defeated for some reason.

As if I didn't get any compensation, justice or something. 

I was again starting to feel like a waste. That he could get away with just apologising for something so evil and monstrous, aggravated me. But I wasn't in any position to change this. To dominate. To harm him back. All power I had was to accept it and carry on.

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