Don't Give Up On Me [Book 2]

Chapter 29

Hayden's Point Of View

I fucking hated what I had become because of that girl behind the door. In fact, I had to learn and find out that my so called angel wasn't even an angel. She was my only demon, tearing me into a world of darkness of which I was not aware. She ate my soul like a soul-eater, trapping me with mercy, pity and love. I had fallen for her little game, telling myself that she never wanted any bad to happen. I told myself she was innocent, when in fact, she had been planing on destroying me all the time. I was blinded by the way she looked at me, by the way she felt underneath my hands with the busted knuckles, by the scent she gave off, by the way her voice sounded and of course by the way she had given me this wrong love of hers. I couldn't believe how naïve I was to believe that she had good intentions, that she could be the one who would finally change me for the better. I wanted to be good, for her.

I couldn't ever be good enough for her, that was what I told myself, I believed her to be an angel. I thought she was the reason I was going to have a normal life when in fact she was the reason I did not have a normal one.

But despite all my rage, all my hate I felt towards her in that very moment, I could not even bring myself to do anything against it. If it was any other person, they would be lying on the cold hard ground, a bullet piercing through their chest. But it was her.

I hated myself for not hurting her when I should have, for not leaving her in that alley way with that sick bastard.

If I had the chance would I leave her there to die? Would I walk past them and let him kill her and could I have gone on with my life just like that?

No.

I knew that I wouldn't ever have let her die there, not by her father nor by Steve. She might had been a demon, but disguised in a heavenly body, formed by God himself for an angel to occupy.

I walked over to my bed, sitting cautiously down on it as if it would break if I sat too fast down. My head hung low, the thoughts in my head being too much for me to handle. I had never thought of her differently than her being my angel. She had always been the light in my world when everything was consumed by darkness. But what if everything was shining, filling me up with light, while all I could see was the darkness pulling me towards itself?

I shook my head, when a tear slipped out of my eye, running down my cheek. Rubbing my eyes, only to get the nasty feeling of those away, my lips quivered. I hated the feeling of sadness more than the feeling of anger. Anger would make you do things you regretted, but sadness would eat you up and consume everything you had left when joy was considered. Much like my demon, I thought as I let out a sob.

How could I ever think she loved me? Why was I stupid enough to let her ruin my life?

I was reminded about our old times, when I willingly dug for the wrinkled picture in my left back pocket. It was the picture I had always been carrying around, Leah and I three years ago in Disney world. She was wearing those cute little mini mouse ears while she made me wear mickey mouse ears. I had protested, but in the end I ended up wearing them just to see her smile.

"Fuck." I croaked, my throat sore from all that crying I had been doing. Even though I hated what she did to me, I could never deny my love for her, I loved her so much it hurt just thinking about her. Maybe I was blinded by the love that was radiating from my own, because I knew she was evil inside, but even if she was, then so would it be. I was too stubborn to ever let go on that love and I knew that myself, I knew I would get myself killed by loving the devil, but if that was what gave me the love of hers then so it be.

Shaking my head again, I realized that I was at the beginning again, I was going in circles. I was letting her break me apart, which was stupid, but I couldn't deny one thing, which was that I loved and cherished every second of it.

Leah's Point Of View

This situation made me remember the first time we spend a night together here. I was curled up on the sofa, sobbing to myself while he was probably asleep, not caring whether I was could or not. The only differences being that he was chased by the cops so they could throw him into a mental house and I was alone. I knew very well that he wouldn't come and get me like he did years ago. I knew he wouldn't pick me up, change me into his clothes, whispering that I should trust him. I knew he wouldn't cuddle me up, giving me a gentle kiss before falling asleep with his head dug into my neck. He wouldn't ever do such a thing again, not after he realized all the things happened because of me. I ruined his life and, yes, I'd had liked to think differently, but I knew that if I wouldn't have snuck off that night then he wouldn't have seen us and he wouldn't have been in this situation.

Hours and hours passed and I wasn't moving, I couldn't bring myself to leave, knowing very well that if I were to, I would never see him or this flat again. I wanted nothing more than a hug or to snuggle with him in that old king size bed of his.

Silently, before I could bring my body to turn around, I walked towards his room, my legs and arms shaking while I did so, which was certainly not only because this flat was so very cold. I gulped as I opened his door, which I had not expected to be open.

There he was, holding something in his hand of which I couldn't quite see what it was, but I had an idea. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks stained with the salty marks of tears.

"L-Leah?" He croaked.