Chapter 41: Hate Her
Matthew
I only wanted to scare her a little bit. Maybe frustrate her, push her buttons just enough to see that fire in her eyes—the way she always glares at me when I piss her off.
I never expected to see her like that.
Curled on the cold basement floor, shaking so violently it was like she wasn’t even in her own body anymore. Her wide, terrified eyes darting around, seeing things that weren’t there. Her frantic hands clawing at her own skin, as if she was trying to peel something away.
She looked like a little girl. Small. Helpless.
The way she whimpered, the way she begged—it made something twist deep inside me, something I don’t want to name. I wanted to push her, but not like that. Not to the point where she was gasping for air like she was drowning, like she wasn’t even here anymore. And when she latched onto me, trembling, gripping my shirt like I was the only thing keeping her grounded, I—
I don’t even know what the fuck I felt. At that moment, all of my hatred for her disappeared.
I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. I should feel satisfied. I should feel smug. Instead, I feel like shit. Because I put her there.
I inch closer to her and gingerly place my hand on her hair.
Her hair is soft beneath my fingers, slightly damp from sweat, tangled from how violently she had thrashed earlier.
I lean back, watching her. Her face is peaceful now, her lips slightly parted, her eyelashes fluttering every now and then.