She will always be the one

Why do he likes and I hate?

Saama --- POV

Why do I hate him? There is not only one reason to begin with. There is a part of me missing a truth about what happened to me during those fourteen days of capture. Who did what and how I managed to escape.

"At first" I begin "I didn't hated you. I liked you a lot for being so wild, creative, protective, energetic, and innovative in terms of being able to enjoy yourself despite the circumstances that would make it difficult for you. I admired you, maybe little more than anybody could possibly do. I wanted to get close to you but you always pushed me away so further to the back that to get courage to speak or to be around you...it will take me days. Days would go by, I wouldn't be able to come up with anything interesting. You wouldn't look at me.

So I quit doing what I couldn't do. It was like a calculus problem that I would try many time to reach a solution but in the end, it would drain the energy so I stop. But I didn't give up. I thought of coming back to it after I give it a break. Surprisingly, I did came back but ended up with scars that couldn't be healed. So I was better off to hate you than to be with you" I stop.

Tears blurring my vision at the hurt I got to bear because of him.

"I didn't know, I made you feel this way" he exclaims.

"But you did" I reply and continue "when I came back to solve, I was met with results. You begin to care about me to the extent that it made me uncomfortable but at a time reassuring, that when I die there will be at least one person who will remember me. When you took me to that spot, I felt the happiest. I knew you will remember me whenever you are at this place ever again, without me."

The air thickens with heaviness as we stare deeply into our speaking hearts.

"Then you thought, I wanted to see you naked which is why I took you," he murmurs.

I look down, feeling of shame reaching my cheeks as I had always accused him of that in my own heart. He knows me so well that he is even aware of my hidden thoughts. He took me by surprise when he had unbutton the frock, telling me he wants to see me. When he was about to lower it, fear had encase me. I didn't wanted him to see my unhealed wounds. I want to know his intentions of doing that and for that I am glad we are on the same page.

"Yes" I rasped, lifted my gaze to match the unwavering blackness of his "Yes. I thought...no...I am sure you wanted to see me and you could have...you were at the advantage."

He roughly grips the neckline of my white tee-shirt, pulls me toward himself so that there is very little space between us. I can feel his tense breath on my skin. His jawline is sharp, he had clenched his teeth's in anger.

"I didn't wanted to see you naked but because you have such a gutter of mind. I am not telling you" he barks without spitting on face to which I am thankful.

"You can't deny the truth because that is what you wanted to do" I spat back, forcing him to tell and the only way to get it out of him is too tarnish his character.

Nobody can tolerate shit about themselves.

"You always render me speechless. For the record, you made me feel things after my accident. I started to pay attention to you because I made you my companion. We shared pain. You shared my pain with me. You didn't left me alone. And coming to that part, you were bleeding. The back of your dress was drenched in blood. I wanted to see the wounds that you got for accepting you in my life."

He let go of his feelings and the hold he had at my neckline.

"Then you should have said it" I spoke and now it is my turn to grip him by the neckline. Before it could hit me that he has no shirt, I had my hand around his neck. There is no neckline. What should I wrap my fingers around? I want strangle him like he did with me a while ago.