Won't You Please Remember Me? (ON HOLD)

Chapter 8 - His Thoughts

Yo, everyone. I've been slacking off again and thanks to @ashnic08 and her funny comments, i managed to write a long chapter. Thanks for the inspiration ashnic08! This chapter is mainly about Sammy's side of the story. I hope you guys have fun reading it because I certainly had fun writing it. 

On to the story:

************************************************************************************************************

Santa Claus’s Son is My Master?! WTF!!!

Recap:

It’s not really his fault. If I were to be honest with myself, I didn’t hate what he did to me. His touch was startling, but they didn’t bode any threat. They were gentle, tender, and it felt right. Everything felt right at that moment and I couldn’t have refused him.

But I can’t stand the pain I remembered from the memories that came so suddenly.

My heart squeezed again.

I just can’t stand them.

Sammy groaned and smacked his head to the nearest available flat surface, which happened to be the wall. Forwon managed to outrun him, most probably due to the ache he’s feeling between his legs. That was a hard knee-jab. He gave a muffled cry at how stupid he was to even try it. Then he began to repeatedly thump his head back and forth on the wall.

Why? Why? WHY?! Why did he have to do that? He knew it was just an impulse. He knew that Forwon was just so angry that her instincts took place and since her subconscious knows how strong their attraction is, she kissed him. It was all a natural. She didn’t mean it. He knew that. And yet, he has to go act stupidly and make a move on her when she was already so confused. No wonder she ran after that. It would be a wonder if she can even stay near him. Hell, it would be a miracle if she stayed at all. She was already devastated when she learned that she was unconscious for five days and he just had to add oil to the fire.

Damn him to the poles of the earth.

Stupid hormones. Wish they would give him some room for self-control. But that’s just it. They wouldn’t! Every time he goes near her, he felt it. How he wanted to touch her. How he wanted to be with her all the time. How he wishes she could be here forever. How he wishes that she knows what’s going between them. How he wishes that she could remember what happened between them.

Hell, he even knows it wasn’t the hormones whole responsibility. It was the feeling that resides behind in the background. Not in the lower parts of his anatomy. Something higher and something much deeper than physical attraction. He realized it years ago. He knows what it is. When he realized it, it him like a tsunami. It may have taken time to accept it since he thought it was just a temporary shallow physical attraction, but when he threw his ego aside, the acceptance brought him an odd feeling of serenity and determination.

He paused smacking his head when a melting glow touched his heart, remembering what happened before. Then an odd pang of hurt.

She doesn’t remember him. She can’t remember him. If she did try, her body reacts uncontrollably. The potion already seized control. She’ll get hurt every time she does. Her sleeping periods might get even longer, and he had other ideas in spending those periods with her. Besides that, like hell he’ll let her get hurt. Over his dead body.

But being dead seems a lot more comfortable than this state.

He loves her.

She doesn’t love him back.

She probably thinks he’s just some low, rich, horny playboy. Which he was before; before, he met her.

But I changed, he defended himself angrily.