Enzo
"How dare you," he spat, walking into the room. His voice was low but dripped with death.
Then another blow landed on my face, forcing my brain to leave those realms of suffocating pain and return to the reality before me.
I stood up from the bed. My forehead hurt as a result of the blow. My eyes met his darkened, deep-red eyes.
I never remembered doing anything wrong. I never knew what had happened.
My mind jolted.
"I will not let you stand there and accuse me wrongly, as if I have committed the most grievous crimes," I shot back, allowing my mind, my will, to take over me.
"You hurt me first. How do you explain the fact that I was missing after the surgery?" I shot back.
Not when I still remembered the humiliation a few hours ago, when I stood by the company's entrance, watching him walk past me. Not when every single thing looks like a puzzle to me.
His fists clenched, and his breath turned purely erratic under my daring gaze.
