Heartless
The young man looked at his girlfriend from across the bedroom, not missing the tense expression on her usually blank face. She seemed very upset, her lips pressed together into a thin line as she tossed the towel onto the couch next to his bed. He closed the book he was reading for the report he was working on, lifting an eyebrow at her.
"Problem at work?" he asked, only to receive a stern frown from her. Even under the faint light from the lampshade, her features remained sharp and intimidating, as if the emotions underneath them refused to be read.
"Don't be silly," she said, walking to the one side of the room, where his cabinet was. She pulled out one of his shirts randomly, just as she would during her unexpected visits.
He watched her strip off his bathrobe and put on his clothes, the dark shirt hanging on her frame loosely. The young woman was probably not lying about having any problems at work, but he was quite certain that she was upset about something. She almost never made the first move to speak to or see him, but that she even dropped by his condo on a Monday night would mean that something was definitely bothering her.
She reached for her hair, removing the gilt hairpins and settling them on the bedside table before taking her place next to him. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, frowning in the darkness like a child who was thinking of the day's frustrations.
"You can tell me about it," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulder.
Silence followed his words, and he shook his head, pulling his girlfriend closer. He knew that it would take more than those simple words to make her talk about anything that was bothering her. She was too cold, too unfeeling, and too proud to let anyone else know of her problems and that included even him.
It was almost a wonder why they were still together. The young woman was intelligent and kind and beautiful, which was what drew him in to her in the first place. She had the sweetest smile and the most genuine laugh, and she never ceased to amaze him with her wit and cunning.
But she was also the biggest self-contradiction. She was ruthless and cold and she never forgot a wrong. Behind her rare smiles was a very calculating mind; someone who played either the helpless damsel or the vicious genius, as befitting of the circumstances. She was afraid of no one, and yet she was terrified of herself.
His friends even doubted her love for him. She was very nice and pleasant and smiling, but she was also aloof and distant and stern. He already knew firsthand that she could stand not seeing him or hearing from him in two months, and without a struggle, too.
He had tried it once, over a year ago. It had taken great effort not to call her or send her anything in those two months thathe kept away from her, but he still lost when he finally gave up on the first day of the third month without her, and he rushed to her office to see her.
She hadn't even jumped in joy when she saw him after eight long weeks of separation. No, she was too refined for that. Instead she simply smiled at him and agreed to have dinner with him, and told him to wait for her with her secretary while she gathered her things.
It had hurt to see her so uncaring then, but he knew he had no right to feel that way. She didn't even know that he had deliberately distanced himself in those two months to see if she would perhaps miss him and the things that he was doing for her. At the time, it had been obvious that she didn't.
How wrong he had been. After their silent dinner, he dropped her off at her place thinking how much of a fool he was for being in love with someone as heartless as she was. But she stopped him before he could leave, crumpling his suit in her hands as she glared at him."Don't do that again."
Unkind as the words were, he somehow understood that it was the best she could say to express what she felt for him. His friends told him he was silly, but he somehow knew that he understood her more than anyone else could, and that he would not be letting go of this young woman who made him lose the fear of being alone.
She shifted on the bed, throwing her arms around his neck as she snuggled close to him. "It hurts," she murmured, the strain to keep her voice from breaking very distinct to his ears.
He blinked, suddenly thrown off by her words. He had always known her to be stubborn and difficult, and to hear her saying something that made her remotely seem weak was” a surprise, at the very least. "what hurts?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her protectively.
She inhaled, her eyes still closed when she answered. "My heart. It hurts," she murmured, her embrace around him tightening. "It hurts so much."
He felt himself tense up. "do you want to tell me about it?" he asked, carefully phrasing his question. He knew that wording it differently would probably elicit an altogether different, maybe even hostile response from her.
She shook her head without looking up at him. "I really don't," she grumbled, before pulling away slightly. She looked down to her lap, like she was contemplating whether to speak to him about it or not, and he waited, as patiently as he always did.
It took about a full minute before she finally stared up at him again, her dark eyes exhausted and confused. "They were screaming at each other, and I couldn't do anything but listen." She gritted her teeth. "I thought I've forgotten about it, but hearing them like that" she clenched her jaw. "It's just the same as it was before."
He silently watched her flex her fingers restlessly, her chest heaving up and down with every breath that she took. It took him only a moment to realize that she was trembling, and how the tears were slowly forming in her eyes; like a child terrified of the ghosts from the past.
Without waiting to hear any more of her words, he simply reached out to her, pulling her in an embrace. "Maybe you should cry it out," he whispered, playing with the locks of her hair as she buried her face in his chest.
"I don't want to," she said, with a shake of her head.
The two of them remained like that for a while, with her settled quietly on his lap, and him reassuringly holding her close. It was a long time before the young woman heaved a sigh, lifting her head and looking into his eyes. "I'm sorry."
He blinked in surprise, a light laugh escaping his lips despite himself. "What for?"
"Because I'm a heartless bitch," she told him ingenuously, her hand clenching around his shirt. "It always makes me wonder why you're still with me. Not when you deserve someone better."
This time he really laughed, her bluntness reminding him exactly why he was still with her. "Someone better, huh? I'm touched." He smiled at her. "But let's just say I really can't imagine who I'd be with if not you."
She only narrowed her eyes at him. "I can," she said, making him pause. "You'll be with someone prettier, someone who's more accomplished and more intelligent than I am. Someone who's more outgoing, less serious, and perhaps a whole lot less dysfunctional. Someone who won't torture you by never calling or texting you, or"
"I love you, you know," he said, watching her eyes widen upon the words. He laughed, letting his fingers trail the contours of her pretty face. "It terrifies me how accomplished you already are, because I read somewhere that women never marry the men who are less accomplished than they are. It drives me insane when you don't call or text me; or how you can stand not seeing me for two straight months; or how cold and aloof you can be most times. But it drives me equally insane when you do call or text me out of the blue to invite me to dinner just because, or when you suddenly tell the most hilarious jokes with such a straight face."
"More than anything, it makes me happy when you make random visits like tonight. You're a stubborn lady whom most people fear, and that you're letting me see your heart as candidly as this is so precious to me." He gave her a smile, lifting her chin so that their eyes met. "You might be a heartless bitch, but I love you all the same."
The young woman was quiet in the moments that followed, the warring of her emotions causing a small frown to creep over her lips. In the end, her stubbornness seemed to win, and she simply threw herself at him, settling on his lap once more. "I really don't like texting," she whispered to him, making him laugh again.
"I've gotten used to it by now," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist as she laid her head against his shoulders. "I'll just call you instead."
She raised her left hand, looking up at him as she touched his face. "We won't be like them, will we?"
He held her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Of course not. That's a promise."
This answer seemed to please her, and she closed her eyes. "I want to sleep like this," she said, a hint of command very distinct in her soft voice.
"That's fine."
"Don't you have work tomorrow?" she asked.
"Just sleep," he told her, shaking his head at her stubbornness. She was definitely the sort who refused to let up as long as there were still questions to be answered.
With his free hand, the young man reached for the lampshade and turned off the lights, careful not to stir his girlfriend in his arms. He glanced over to the windows to his left, only then realizing how late it was. He needed to wake up at seven for his presentation at nine, which meant that he only had about six hours to sleep.
He glanced down to his girlfriend, tilting his head when he heard her grumble. "Did you say something?" he whispered, wondering if he was hearing things.
"Listen when I'm talking to you," she snapped sleepily, struggling to keep her eyes open.
"I'm listening," he said, arranging the pillows next to him. They both needed the sleep, and his presentation tomorrow was not something to be taken lightly either.
"I love you, too."
He froze, quickly looking over to his girlfriend only to find that she had already fallen asleep. He blinked twice in succession, pushing his glasses up his nose as the words she had spoken resounded in his thoughts.
He had never doubted that she cared for him, but she had never told him that she loved him as willingly as she had just now. No, his girlfriend had too much pride and was too cynical of love for that. She would probably even deny the whole thing tomorrow if he asked, but the fact remained that she had said it of her own accord.”
He sighed, a small smile of contentment falling on his face as he gently pressed his lips against hers. "Thank you."
The heartless bitch that he loved wasn't so heartless, after all.
