I felt something wet on my cheeks. I had decided to assume it was sweat. His hand left my neck, and hugged me tightly. Like sand in a fist.
"You can't leave." Like a judge's ruling statement. My ears twitched as his heat transferred.
"Don't leave…"
I couldn't catch his full words. But he pulled away after that.
The ride back to his house was in a screaming silence. He held my hands throughout. Firm, unyielding.
"You don't have to hold my hand like that… I've already missed my flight. I won't run away." I tried to reason with him. But his hold only got more stubborn.
"Wherever I am, is your home." He said looking straight at the road. His gaze didn't falter. His voice was calm. I almost mistook it for comfort.
"I don't want to meet my family." My voice had also calmed down.
He gave me that look again. Like I was speaking a foreign language.
"Family?" I could see the irritation in his eyes building up fury.
"There has been no family since the day you slept on my bed." His knuckles turned pale against the leather. His grip on my hand tightened to the point of hurting.
"It hurts!" I jerked my hand away. It had turned red.
All the anger in his eyes had vanished.
I thought I was hearing things.
"Sorry" barely above a whisper. His car trembled slightly. His hands on the wheel were unsteady.
I didn't respond to it. I didn't know how to.
"I am the only one you need to focus on." He said like another command. But his eyes had a tone different from his words.
"If you don't want to see someone don't see them. Better yet don't see anyone." I almost laughed at his attempt.
"And do you suggest I just look at you?" I asked.
"Your place is in my house. Or wherever I am." His words had started to sound persuasive.
"Is it?" I scoffed. I wasn't complaining. Home or not, it changes nothing.
"Why is it my home?" My voice sounded rushed. Like water slipping through a crack.
"Who wants me here?" My eyes started to sting. I turned my head to look outside the window.
"No one cares if I live or die. Let alone something like love." My breath hitched. The voice cracked on its way out.
"Whatever you want… just ask me. I can give you–"
"I won't ask." I didn't let him finish. I said it with full conviction.
I peeked through the corner of my eyes. He still had that smug look.
"I will do whatever I want whether you ask or not." He declared.
Something made my lips widen. Somehow his words managed to comfort me. Even if that wasn't his intent.
The silence stretched after that. We reached his mansion. Apparently my home. As he said. He opened the door for me. Offering his hand, as I took his hand he pulled me out. Flushed against him. He kissed me again. This time, it was less urgent. More calm. Before I knew it, my fingers were entangled in his hair. It was annoying how short it was. My hand kept slipping. He pulled away sooner that time. Way sooner.
I locked my eyes on his. To figure out whatever I could without words. The world shifted. He scooped me up just as my feet started to sting. I leaned my head against his chest.
"How did you leave the dinner so soon?" I asked.
That look again. I don't know what I had said that sounded so weird.
"You didn't come back from the restroom." He bothered to explain. I hummed in response.
I wobbled slightly as he walked the stairs.
He placed me on the bed side. His hand reached for the drawer looking for the first aid kit.
His hand held my foot gently. Cleaning the dirt and blood away. It stinged, but it felt soothing. His head rested against my knees. I placed my hand on his head.
"Hum"
"What?" I didn't catch him.
"Hum. Like you do when playing the piano." He said louder this time. As he wrapped my feet in bandages.
I hummed away the first tune that came to mind.
I had always wondered why he liked it so much.
The clock's ticking, our breathing, my heartbeat, became the music for it. He held my hand, the one bruised from his grip. He pulled it to his mouth, kissing softly. He didn't say sorry then. But I heard a scream.
It was such a contradiction– no. I didn't hate him. I realised by then. Nothing more. That too was a cruelty. He makes me hate him one second, and forget it the next. But I didn't have the luxury to complain.
He slept holding me in his arms. Slowly his scent filled my nostrils, and I too, drifted off.