I don't need 10 years, hundreds of trials to know what's been wrong with my mind ever since I met this dangerously beautiful woman who makes me act like I am not that fearsome, cold-like-Serbia Aaron William Laurent.
Seeing her tear roll down her cheeks, something ignites inside me. A cruel, merciless scream echoes in my mind.
I want to pull her flush against mine, kiss away those tears who have no business shedding from those sharp brown irises, put the world on her feet and tell her, just tell me who made you believe you are too much because…
You are exactly the kind of too much I have been starving for.
I tell her, "Sometimes… it's okay to be too much. World is a shitty place either way…"
She looks at me like I have just given her the penicillin to all her pain and resentment, her lips wobble, a light sob leaves her mouth…
And I fucking hate it…
My hands rise again, this time not to wipe off her tears, though I will do it again and again and again until the only tears coming from her eyes are tears of happiness.
Resting my cold, rough palm against her soft and warm cheeks, I dip my head even more.
"You shouldn't be crying over things that others told you. You are unique as you are, Princess."
Princess…
Yeah… that's what she is for me. A jewel that's too bright, too precious, too important to be handled roughly.
She shakes, desperately trying not to let her tears fall…
I shouldn't care… I never cared…
But fuck! If her tears and pain didn't cut me open and rub salt on my burning flesh.
My hand moves behind her head, resting at the back of her neck. She freezes but doesn't push me away.
Pulling her head right against my chest where my heart is beating so fast, so alive, so loud, my voice drops low and so soft, I couldn't recognize myself.
"Cry… I am here. "
And that's all.
Her small tender arms wrap around my waist, clinging hard to the bare minimum I can give in that moment, her sob muffled against my chest, her warm tears only fuel my anger toward the world which makes her break like this.
My other hand reaches and rests on the small of her back, pulling her so close until the distance between us is non-existent.
She cries—hard, loud, desperate. Years of pent-up pain and rage, standing strong while all she deserved was protection from the world.
My own breathing feels ragged and slow. My grip around her waist tightens as her small hands spread over my back.
I gulp, my throat feels tight and restrained. She cries like someone had just pulled her innocent and tender heart out and smashed it…
Why? Why can't I just absorb her pain within me and let her just feel all the happiness?
Why…
Why didn't I find her earlier? This damned heart of mine which recognizes her like I have always known her before I even knew myself.
I can't name it. But this dark, all-consuming desire to protect her from the world is too strong, way too strong.
"Shh! It's okay, it's okay, Princess." I whisper under my breath, tenderness in my voice betrays the fire in my chest.
She chokes on her tears, her chest rises and falls against my steady one too fast.
And Jesus!
She fits… She fits in my arms like I have been made to hold her, to embrace her pain against mine.
Her body molds against mine like she was carved out of me. A warmth unfamiliar to me spreads across my chest as she hides her face in my chest, I place a kiss at the crown of her head.
Drawing small circles on the small of her back, almost too tender, too delicate, too careful.
"I am tired," she chokes on her words. And God, it did something to me.
"I am so tired of everything and everyone. They just tell me what to do like I am not my own person," she screams against my chest, her heart bleeds and I let her against me.
"Why? Why nobody can get I am not too much, I am just who I am?" she says, as if she doesn't make me feel alive and crazy all at the same time, as if this too much of her is exactly what I have been craving for.
But I don't say it… not yet.
"What is my fault, Aaron? What has been my fault?" Her nails digging on my flesh through my shirt, enough to sting yet not enough to make me loosen my grip around her.
"Nothing." I finally say, my voice raw and rough. "It's not your fault, Princess. It was never your fault."
She sobs harder. Still not trusting what I said. Yet I don't care.
Because I will fight against the entire world if I need to but I won't ever let her feel small.
It was my mistake earlier. I was too worried about her safety against those people whom I can crush with only a snap of my finger.
It was my fault that I thought twice about how my reckless actions will affect my position in the Laurent family.
For those few minutes I had forgotten, I hadn't become so powerful that the only man my Uncle, the 2nd most powerful man in this damned Laurent empire, not to use it to protect someone I want to protect.
It's my fault that I told her the same thing others told her. Regardless of my intention, I have hurt her.
Fuck you, Aaron! Why did you say those bullshits?
My jaw clenches tight but my grip around her small, fluttering frame remains firm, not suffocating.
She cries another ten minutes and those ten minutes did more damage to my heart than cruel comments made by foes.
Slowly her sobs die, a few small hiccups remain. I feel her heartbeat steadying against mine until we breathe in the same rhythm unconsciously.
"You good?" I ask, my voice low and tender.
She nods small, still holding me like her life depends on me, maybe it does at this moment.
Slowly she pulls away, my heart clenches painfully as her warmth feels distant.
Her hands rest on my hips, as she tilts her head, I get to see how miserably beautiful she looks.
Her makeup is smudged, eyeliner covering those brown eyes which take my breath away, cheeks and nose flushed red, lips dry. "Don't look at me."
Her embarrassed face looks adorable, like how she clutches my shirt looking away.
My hand from the back of her head slowly finds its way to her chin as I make her look at me.
She looks at me through her wet long lashes, anticipating teasing or maybe mocking.
Yet what I give her is a tender, warm smile which does no justice to the warm sense of belonging I feel within myself.
"Doesn't matter. You look beautiful even with your makeup smudged and tear stains."