Argyl

I Hate Him

I threw another punch in the direction of the bag. My fist landed on it, a sharp pain shooting through my knuckles. They were already swollen because of the whole day of practicing. But I wasn't planning on stopping. I didn't want to stop.

Ignoring the pain, I pulled my hand back to punch it again. This time fingers wrapped around my fist stopping me from hitting the bag.

The familiar cologne and an odd smell filled my mind but I didn't look back. I felt heat radiating from him. His cologne holding me off guard like the very first time. But with his cologne, I could smell blood. I struggled to get my hand free from his grip.

I didn't want to look at him. To show him that he had been successful in hurting me. In breaking me again.

His grip was tight around my fist. I struggled again and he let go, only to catch my wrist. I glanced at my hand and his fingers were wrapped around my bruised wrist.

His strong hand holding my bruised one.

He turned me around roughly and I didn't look at him. My eyes scanned the floor refusing to meet his. I didn't want to see the anger there. I was afraid his eyes would be the same cold and icy again just like morning. Just like the day we met.

I didn't want to see that. I was aware of his gaze on me. Observing my every move. I was just as nervous as I was in the start. My fingers trembling beside me to hold on the knife. I had again raised my guards up. And he knew that.

He tugged onto my wrist causing me to wince. His grip immediately loosened around it. I saw his hand coming up to my face. Holding my chin, he made me look up at him.

I looked into his electric blue eyes and all the emotions came back rushing to me. I couldn't keep them in control. He lowered all the guards all over again just in a damn moment. I don't know how he could do that.

I hated him for making me feel this. I hated him for making me love him this crazily.

His eyes showed regret, sadness, longing. He didn't speak anything. He almost never did. I knew he wouldn't speak how he feels. But his eyes said it all. All the things I didn't want to know. All the things that will say he was right. All of them defending him for what he did.

But more than that, I didn't want to know that he was feeling sorry for what he did.

Cause anger was the only thing I had felt the whole day. I didn't want to loose the anger inside me just by his one look.

Just one look in his eyes, and I wasn't angry on him anymore.

I didn't know how he managed to do that.

He would make you feel what he wanted to just in a span of few moments.

His eyes held me in cage as always. He had the control over my mind.

"Argyl." He breathed out in his deep voice.

Hearing his voice after all this, somehow calmed me down. My name from his lips somehow managed to increase my heart beat in a moment.

I didn't say anything. I didn't want to. His eyes scanned my face for any trace of emotion. I didn't offer any.

"What you think you are doing here?" He asked in a voice almost bitter to hear.

I looked at him in disbelief for a moment.

I didn't respond him. Though all I wanted to do was bury my face into his chest seeking comfort, I stopped myself.

"What does it look like Damion?" I asked.

"What are you trying to prove by practicing this late?"