"I know you wanted this as much as I did, but can't we at least pretend we're happy? Can't you even try to like me?!" I demanded, frustration glittering amongst the tears in my eyes.
He didn't meet my gaze, staring at the ground, and shook his head slightly.
"I'm sorry," he said in his thick accent. "I cannot."
I was sure that I would never understand him.
He hated me. He must do. I knew why, and didn't resent him for it. If it wasn't for how fragile he was I would've hated him too. It was my fault his whole life had turned upside down. My fault he was held at gun point until he did as he was told. And I was sorry for that.
It took all my courage to tell him.
"I'm sorry," I said, staring at the front of his head, where the black hair fell over his brows.
Pure surprise made him look up; normally he would never dare to catch my eye.
"What? Why?"
He glared at me.
"I'm just...sorry for everything."
I couldn't bring myself to explain further. I simply turned and walked to my-no, our bedroom.
It was a beautiful sanctuary and yet it was filled with cold.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy with the Whiplash Tattoo
RomanceRECENTLY EDITED "I know you hate me but can't we at least pretend to be in love?!" Aaron is a strong silent boy who cries in his nightmares and struggles to trust and love. Camilla is insecure and self-blaming, hiding her feelings and fighting to...
