Ariel's POV

I slammed the bedroom door, furiously swiping away the tears on my cheeks and in my eyes.

How dare he.

How dare he even try to tell me he's sorry.

My back met the closed door, my body slowly sliding down.

I buried my fingers into my hair, my ears flattening against my head.

Why'd he have to say all those things.

Why.

Now he's apologizing?

And part of me wants to accept it. Part of me wanted to lean into his touch. Part of me wanted him to pull me off that couch and hug me. Part of me wanted to kiss him and make it all go away.

Then there's the much angrier part of me that wants to rip his head off his shoulders. To give him the silent treatment. To make him sit for hours, alone, just to have his own thoughts for company.

I wanted him to stop trying and leave me alone.

Yet, I also wanted him to rip this door off the hinges and refuse to accept my silent answer.

I glanced at the little bedside clock on my side of the bed. It was...I squinted...8:30 am.

It's nearly been a full 24 hours now.

I sniffed dryly, crossing my arms over my knees. I rested my cheek against my crossed arms, my frustrated expression relaxing.

I'm sure it was just replaced by the sadness now.

The helpless way he makes me feel is something I can't avoid. That's why I needed to get away from him, before I just fully submitted.

I couldn't let myself do that when I'm not done being mad at him.

Yet the more I sat in here alone, the more I wanted to go out there and apologize. Maybe I should've......

"Perhaps next time you get taken they'll just kill you and I'll be rid of this new burden you've drug into my afterlife!"

The words rang through my head, but even after they had passed through the ringing stayed.

Those are the words I can't seem to get passed.

I know he was trying, he was trying so desperately to apologize. I just don't think I'm ready to hear it yet...not while I'm still so pissed off at him for saying it in the first place.

If he wants me dead so bad, why doesn't he just do it himself...

Maybe he would.

If I pushed him far enough, would he kill me?

Since I'm such a damn burden.

I aggressively wiped away the new tears in my eyes, then jolted upright at the sound of knocking at the bedroom door.

"Dear...?" His voice sounded fragile. Nothing, and I mean nothing compared to his normal demeanor.

That confidence I love so much is gone. The loud, boisterous man seems to have been replaced by a shell.

I stood up, facing the closed door. My hand instinctively reached for the knob, but I stopped.

He's lying...

The pestering little voice in my head whispered to me. Although he's never once truly lied to me, it's moments like these I wonder if that's because the entire thing is a lie.

So of course it seems as if he's never lied.

"I am not lying to you..."

Then prove it.

My hand grasped the knob and I yanked the door open, staring up at him. Somehow, in the midst of this, I forgot how damn tall he is.

Looking up at him made me dizzy, a feeling I normally love. A feeling that makes me cling to him. Now it just made me feel weak.

He blinked in surprise, looking down at me with widened eyes.

That look then faltered, his brows coming together in a guilt ridden worry. I glared up at him, doing my best to stand my ground.

"Darling...can I please explain?"

His hands fidgeting in front of him caught my attention for only a second. His ears were lowered and overall he looked really pitiful.

I shook my head, "explain what...? Explain what exactly? How you...not only told me I was useless...among other things—" I seethed, making him look away, "—but you also..." I laughed slightly, biting my lip as the tears that forced their way up every time I thought about this part burned my eyes, "you also said you wished I were dead,"

I crossed my arms, nodding to myself slightly. My eyes met his and the quick way I moved them caused the tears that had built up to spill over. Dammit.

He was watching me, and if I'd have been in the right state of mind I would've been able to see the clear dismay in his eyes. The look that was begging me to let him explain.

"You know," I started again after a very long silence, "it's kind of funny, if you wanted me dead so badly, why keep me alive?" I said, my voice cracking slightly.

I shrugged, letting my arms fall to my sides, "why not just kill me yourself?"

As soon as the words left my mouth he shook his head, "I'd never hurt you..." were the words that barely made it past his lips.

My chest ached, and deep deep down buried beneath the anger and hurt I knew he was telling me the truth.

But the emotions on my surface wanted so desperately for him to prove it. For him to make up for what he said, and prove he loves me.

More tears spilled over my cheeks, hot and heavy. I'm surprised I even still had tears left to cry.

"You keep saying that...you really do, Alastor, but here I am. Hurt. Again."

His eyes widened and immediately his gaze fell to the floor.

I took a shaky breath, chuckling slightly.

"You know what? Here, let me make this easier for you," I said, and he lifted his head to look at me, confusion in his eyes.

SLAP!

I felt the sting against my hand as it collided with his cheek. It was a burning sensation from how hard I'd just hit him.

No matter how this ends, whether I live or die, he deserved that.

His head jerked to the side, eyes wide open. The red mark on his face slowly became the small shape of my hand.

"What about now. You wanna hurt me now?" I asked him. His head was still in the same position, but his eyes slowly looked towards me.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly turned to face me again. I stared up at him, waiting to be hurt, thrown, hit, something.

But he shook his head, opening his eyes again.

"No."

I blinked. Then that anger returned, and I put my palms to his chest, shoving him. He refused to move, and I was trying with all of my strength to push him.

I reared my fist back and struck his chest. Again, and again, and again.

The soft thud each time I hit him made me feel weaker than ever. He just stood, looking down at me as I broke down fully right in front of him.

"Kill me! Just kill me! Get it over with!" I sobbed, gripping at his shirt. I kept hitting his chest, now with both my fists. I don't even know how long I did that before his hand caught my wrist.

Then my other one.

I looked up at him, my face covered in snot and tears I'm sure, and he just had a calm look on his face.

He didn't look angry.

He looked sad.

"You said you wanted me dead...then do it yourself you fucking coward," I said, barely above a whisper. His grip tightened on my wrists, not enough to hurt, but just enough to where I couldn't get away if I tried.

He shook his head, his voice sounding a bit more even now, "No."

I blinked, sniffing as I stared up into those red eyes.

"I will never hurt you," he said, pulling my wrists together and enveloping both of my hands in his, "because I love you."

I shook my head, trying to pull away from him, "liar!" I sobbed, desperately trying to free my wrists.

"I love you..." he repeated softly.

I shut my eyes, shaking my head again.

"I love you."

I yanked against his hands. I need to get away from him, I need to shut this fucking door before he makes me give in.

The part of me that loves him is so much bigger than the part of me that's angry. Still, anger is much stronger than love.

"I love you."

"Stop saying that!" I cried out, trying to push him out of the room.

I love you too.

"I hate you!"

Please don't leave me here alone.

"Just fuck off!"

There was a sigh, and I opened my eyes. He still had that same look on his face.

My lip quivered and I slowly stopped fighting him. I looked down at his feet and then his grip slowly loosened on my wrists.

He let go completely, bringing his hands to my face. I wrapped one of my hands around his wrist, pressing my cheek into his palm.

I sniffled and he wiped my tears away gently. I felt a piece of cloth against my nose, and got flashbacks to last time this happened.

Last time wasn't nearly this bad, though.

I blew into the handkerchief, and felt him firmly rub all the snot away. Just like before, he incinerated it in his palm.

I just stood in front of him quietly, my eyes glued to the floor. My body was shaking slightly and I felt a tab bit sick from how much I'd been crying.

He knelt in front of me, forcing me to look at him.

His cheek was bright red, and now that my anger was finally simmering down I felt horrible.

I reached up to touch it, furrowing my brows together, "I'm so sorr—"

I gasped sharply when he snatched my hand and yanked me forward into him. His arms were around me, hugging me close to him.

"Don't you dare..." he whispered, "you're not the one who needs to be apologizing..."

His hold on me was tight, and he just held me close to him for a good minute. Slowly I relaxed into the hug.

"I-I don't hate you..." I mumbled after a minute. He buried his face into my neck. I gently trailed my nails up and down his back, then I let my eyes close and finally hugged him back.

He pulled away, taking me by the shoulders. He stayed on his knees in front of me.

"I am so sorry, my love...I-I didn't—I didn't mean it, I didn't mean to say those things to you. I promise I'll be better if you just give me another chance, please...y-you can do whatever you want, you can have all of my territory you can rearrange the house...I'll let you burn all of my books, you can hurt me...anything to prove to you that I love you and I will always—mm!"

I grabbed his face and kissed him. He froze for a moment, then let out a deep sigh before wrapping his arms around me again and deepening the kiss.

He pulled away, reaching up and brushing my hair back and also flattening my ears how he likes to do.

He peppered my face with kisses, mumbling little sorry's between each one. Eventually the plain look on my face broke into a small smile and I scrunched my face up, trying to escape him.

"Stop, stop, ok, ok I forgive you," I giggled and he rested his forehead against my shoulder.

"I promise...I won't slip up like that again..."

I hummed, brushing my fingers through his hair. He proved himself. Im not mad so much anymore, just a bit irritated.

"You better not," I grumbled, "and next time you're stressed like that...tell me. I'll help you, but when you let it build up, see what happens?" I said softly, and he nodded.

I pulled his face up and kissed his cheek, "now let's go eat breakfast...I'm starving."