The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth but I say them anyways. To protect my own sanity because the truth is, with him around I find it hard to keep myself in check. Heaven knows what's going to happen if I don't put distance between us.

  But a part of me aches for him.

  Aches for what I'm putting him through despite knowing the effect it has on him. These scars make me want to kiss or slap him and I'm afraid I'll choose the latter.

  He steps dangerously close to me, his eyes dark and vulnerable all at once.

  "Say. That. Again."

  "I never cared for you. You're nothing to me. I hate you"

  I see his entire body tense as insults spew out of my mouth but then my gaze lands on his scars again and I regret every word I said.

  He’s just a haunted boy beneath all that.

  No Inez. Not now.

  With shattered dreams.

  Fuck ! No. No. No. Now’s not the time to pity him. It’s too late anyways.

  I stumble back as if hit. “I… I didn’t mean to- I just-” but I can’t speak anything else. My words didn’t just cut his soul, it erased it’s very existence leaving a numbed man behind.

  I don’t even notice as a single tear escapes my eye not because I want to cry – but because I’ve been holding them back for too long.

  It’s not long before I’m a sobbing mess. Why am I crying? I don’t know. Maybe it’s for him. For every single time the world did him wrong. For every single time I did him wrong. And he– he doesn’t even complain. Instead, he crouches down to my level, just sitting beside me with a sigh. That is enough to soothe me.

  Through tears I ask “Why, huh? I thought you stopped and you did! Until this…”

  At that he moves closer, close enough to let his body heat seep into mine.

  “I was a dumb bastard. I assumed they would let me out of there if I do that but they just… ruled it out as manipulative behaviour. I kept trying until I snapped and almost ended one of the doctors.”

  Closer.

  “Why did you want to come back so desperately??”

  “Isn’t it obvious pretty shrink? For you”

  The words have more tears soaking my already messy face. But he understands every tear, every choked sob, every sniffle.

  Understanding. Consoling. Just like he always does. Even without realising it.

  He’s dangerously close to me now, an arm resting at my side and I subconsciously lean into his touch. His thumb brushes across my knuckle and suddenly it’s all too gentle, too warm, too close. He doesn’t say a word, just looks at me like he’s memorizing every single detail of my face, and I find myself doing the same.

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  This isn’t how comfort is supposed to feel. This is something else entirely and it terrifies me, not because I don’t want it, but I because I do.

  Closer.

  His hand reaches up to wipe the remaining tears on my cheek, but it lingers far too long for it to be just platonic. Warm. Comforting

  And I have the sudden urge to hold it again mine.

  I should pull away. I know I should. None of this is right but I find myself craving it anyways. I look at him through red puffy eyes and for the first time in quite a long while, I just feel, in this moment I’m not the cold, professional, distanced psychiatrist. I’m just...Inez.

  I feel his breath hitch and this time, when I look at his eyes, they aren’t just memorizing. They’re burning.

  I don’t more and neither does he. His hand on my face and his eyes on mine. The air itself in the room holds it breath, waiting for something.

  His thumb ghosts over my lips, as if he’s asking, waiting.

  And when I don’t pull back, that’s all it takes for his lips to come down crashing on mine. It isn’t the sweet kind of kiss you see in movies, no this is messy, desperate as if he’s scared I might disappear if he lets go . His grip tightens on me, and I tilt my head to give him better access.

  What am I doing?

  Why am I doing this?

  This is all so wrong, but I can’t stop. No not now.

  Not after the world decided to take everything from us except each other. Not when he’s the only thing keeping me grounded and I’m the only thing keeping him sane.

  I feel the metallic taste of blood on my tongue and fuck...I could drown in it.

  His hands wrap around me and for the first time, I feel salvation, I feel comfort, I feel everything which I have been denying myself since the moment I met him.

  He pulls back, his eyes glazed over and intense all at the same time “If you hate me darling, then let me at least feel it properly.”

  With that, he pulls me on top of him. We are literally making out on the damn floor when there is a perfectly set bed beside us.

  “I can’t bear to see you cry so let me distract you with something else, something real.”

  And this time, when his hands slide under my shirt, I let them because even the strongest souls sometimes need a respite from this cruel world.