"A single moment of misunderstanding is so poisonous, that it makes us the hundred lovable moments spent together within a moment."

AFTER their conversation, again there was a pin-drop silence between them. But, they could hear some weird noises of birds chirping, frogs croaking, and some other known and unknown creatures walking and crawling.

Sana even noticed some bats flying in the sky, above the trees. Sana was scared from inside, but kept her expression in check. She doesn't want Sidharth to make fun of her.

Both were trying to get comfortable in their places. But, it's hardly possible. Sitting at the same place for more than four hours is hard.

None of them were feeling sleepy but Sana was looking a little exhausted, which Sidharth noticed. He wanted to tell her to rest; closing her eyes, that he would watch over her. But kept his mouth shut.

He's not in the mood to talk with her. At all.

"Let her suffer for her stupid deed." he convinced himself with this.

On the other hand, Sana was more curious to know about him. For her, he is a mystery. And, she loves to read mystery and thriller books. Now she wants to solve the mystery named, Sidharth Vyas.

She was sure about one thing. Sidharth had gone through a lot in his life and it affected him badly, giving him some kind of mental health problem that made him the way he is today.

A heartless asshole.

"Can I ask you something?" She thought to break the silence. She loves to talk but this man is the opposite.

Urgh!

"No." He snapped. "Better sleep for some time, I'll call you up."

"Caring, huh?" Sana teased, smirking.

Sidharth looked at her in disbelief. "Come out from your la-la land, Ms. Delulu. I just want some peace for myself."

She couldn't help but call him, "Selfish asshole."

"As if I care," he said, unbrothered.

Sana smirked, "but you're the one, who is chaotic." Her voice was sarcastic.

"Shut up," he was done with her. "Leave me alone."

"Never." It was a promise. "Why did you do that? And when?" She asked.

"I'm not answerable to you," he snapped. He sounded pissed.

"Please, tell me. I can't get the image of you in the pool of blood out of my head." Her voice quiver, as the previous image of him cutting his wrist flashes in front of her eyes.

He remained silent.

She shuts her eyes for a moment to lessen the pain she was feeling in her heart. When she opened her eyes, she saw he was looking at her, but seeing her eyes open, he looked away.

"I'm not telling you anything. You're no one to me." his voice betrayed him.

"Make me your friend then?"

"Never."

"A stranger? Please."

"No, Sana. I'm not telling you about my personal life." He dismissed the topic here making her quiet again.

In reality, he never talked about it with anyone. Not to his busy parents. Or to his so-called friends. No one.

No one ever asked him if he was okay. If he ate anything. If he did his homework. If he slept well at night. If he had a good day at school or college. If he makes any friends? Or anything that normal parents ask their children.

No one asked. No one cared.

No one knows how lonely he has been in his life.

All his life.

He was always been ignored by his parents. They never cared about him. About his studies. About his health, the time when he used to get sick. About the time when he used to cry in fear of monsters when he was a child or the time when people used to bully him in school and he used to cry. No one came to him, consoled him, or hugged him.

Never.

There was a nanny for him till he turned 18.

She was a good person, he can't say that. She used to scold him. Talk to him rudely. Sometimes, she would even hit him, too.

He was scared of her. So scared that whatever she used to say, he would do, quietly, out of fear that she'd again hit him. Or lock him inside his room for hours. Until his parents would come at night. If they come back home at night. Later, she even did something worse to him, he never liked. He never wanted.

He hated her.

He hated his parents.

He hated his life.

And, he hated himself--for being so weak.

His hate for himself was so strong and overpowering that the darkness inside him consumed him. He became something he never was. Someone who he is today. Someone who doesn't care about anyone but himself.

He changed his personality, 360°.

From sweet and innocent to a heartless asshole.

From a good boy to a bad boy.

From weak to strong.

He never liked bullies in childhood. Because, during his school time, the big class boys used to bully him, harass him, finding him weak and alone.

But, later, when he grew up, he started to believe that by bullying weak people, people become strong. People fear them. People hate them but never dare to mess with them.

From that time, he always wanted to be strong and desired people to fear him. And, he somehow succeeds in it.

A living example was the girl sitting next to him, looking at him with curiosity in her eyes. Curious to know about him. Curious to know about his past, and his ugly truth.

But he'll never tell her, how people destroyed him, violated him, broke him to the length no one can fix him. He's broken beyond repair.

He is a monster.

A monster, who doesn't care about anyone but himself. A monster, who can destroy her, break her, but can never love her.

He isn't unaware of her growing feelings for him. He knows she was getting drawn to him---his darkness.

He did notice how Sana looked at him, like he was the only one that mattered to her. The only one that her eyes search for. He even noticed how she gets jealous seeing him with any other girl. Be it Payel or Puja. She's jealous of every girl he has been with.

But he knows his limit.

Does he want to take revenge on her?---Sure.

Does he want to destroy her?---Yes.

Does he want to fuck her?---Definitely.

Does he want to make her fall for him?---No.

He guessed he was not that asshole he thought he was. That he would make her fall for him and then break her heart. He just wants to play with her. With her perfect hourglass body, that consumed his mind and drove him crazy.

He definitely wants to fuck her. And, he will. But with her consent.

Consent is important. And, he knows the value of consent, especially when it comes to having sex with someone.

He must be an asshole but he never forced himself on any girl. To be honest, he never had to. Girls usually throw themselves on him, with their will. He never begged a girl for sex or a blowjob. They do it happily and willingly.

But, Sana is different. Different from them. He knows she wants him, and desperate for him. But she never threw herself on him like other girls did. Like, Puja did.

He personally hates these girls who act like a hooker in front of him.

"Please tell me." Sana requested, again.

"No, Sana." His voice was harsher than intended.

How can he tell her that, he tried to kill himself, by cutting his wrist. Not once but five times.

The first time he did was at the age of 14. Then at 15 then at 16, then again at 17 and the last time he tried was on his 18th birthday.

Every year on his birthday, he would make an excuse from the guests, who were invited to his so-called birthday party. His father throws a party every year. Those parties were actually business parties. A party where his father could get some business deals and partnership in his business. And, his mother would be drunk like a fish and do some drama later.

Classic Mr. and Mrs. Vyas.

In between the party he would lock himself up inside his bathroom and cut his wrist, lose some blood until he got unconscious into his bathtub.

It was his birthday routine.

Every year his nanny would find him first and then take him to the hospital, with the help without other servents. That's what she told him.

The next day, he would find himself waking up in the hospital bed, with a disappointed face and there would be a bandage on his left hand. His father would be angry at him, and scolded him, would call him a loser and what not.

Seeing this he would always curse the person who saved him. He wanted to die, and people didn't let him do that either.

On the other hand, his mother would cry some crocodile tears for a day then back to her old routine. Shopping, clubbing, and kitty parties with other women of her age.

He sometimes wonders looking at his mother, if she's his father's wife or his mistress. There's a class difference between his parents. And, it's quite evident by the way they carry themselves.

His father is more classy, sophisticated and looks like a rich man. On the other hand, his mother is loud and gaudy.

So imperfect. So wrong. So mismatched.

"Look at me," Sana said shaking his shoulder.

"No," he remained looking away from her. He doesn't want her to see her question was making him weak. Making him vulnerable. "I don't need your fake concern."

"Fake?" Now this had hurt her. But she let it go, for him. She wants him to speak up to her. If not as a friend then as a stranger. "You think my concern for you is fake?"

"Yes," he nodded, and quickly removed the tears from his cheeks. He didn't know when tears started to come out from his eyes thinking about his imperfect lonely life. "Stay away from me, Sana. I am no good for you."

"What if I don't want good for me?" She sounded crazy to herself, and she knew Sidharth must be thinking the same.

And, it happened.

"You are crazy Sana. If you think you can fix me. A monster. I don't believe in love. I don't do romance. I don't do relationships. I don't kiss like you do. I just use girls for my physical satisfaction. And, you are not like them. You're different, Sana. Be that different. Don't fall for a monster like me. I can only destroy you."

He knows what she is going through. She is falling for him. A monster. He can only destroy her, and nothing else. He can't love her. He won't kiss her. He won't make her happy and smile. He can only make her sad and cry.

He is broken.

"Why can't she understand that, God damnit?" He wondered, pissed.

"What if I want them all?" She continued.

"Don't act stupid, Sana." He growled. "You are a smart girl. Act like one."

Sana smiled at his words, but he couldn't see it. He was looking in the opposite direction to avoid eye contact with her.

"You are a good person Sidharth." She said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Just accept it."

He felt like letting her stay where she was, close to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He could even feel her hot breath fanning against his neck. He fists his hands to control himself from holding her close, making her sit on his lap, and asking her to make him feel good. But he didn't, he controlled.

He closed his eyes for a moment inhaling the sweet smell of her. It was a mixture of vanilla, strawberry and green apple. Very fruity and delicious.

When she tried to come closer to him, and snuggle into his arms; he snapped out of his thoughts and pushed her away from him. "Stay away from me."

She looked at him in shock, moreover hurt in her eyes. He didn't like it. But, he stayed silent and looked away from her. He doesn't want to face her, because if he sees her like this for a long time he will blunt out everything that he's hiding deep inside his heart and mind. Locking it inside a cage, far away from people's reach.

She continued, "You said sorry to me, for pushing me away from you. You realized your mistake. You are asking me to be different from others. Means you want me to keep my self-respect and leave you. Alone? If that doesn't make you a good person, I don't know what else." Her voice broke at the end.

"I'm not a good person, Sana. I am a monster. A heartless monster." He mumbled, looking away from her.

He doesn't believe in love. He doesn't believe in romantic relationships. He doesn't kiss. He never kissed. But he fuck's girls to fulfil his physical needs, which is understandable. He doesn't want any emotional connection with anyone--any girl.

"What could be the reason?" Sana wondered.

That's the question. And, she'll do everything to know and help him to get over this jerk attitude. She knows what he does is none of her business. But she wants to help him--heal him from his pain.

How? That's another question.

"Do you believe in love Sidharth?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm not answerable to you," he snapped.

Sidharth turned his face away, jaw clenched, as though he, too, was struggling to hold something back. But Sana couldn't tell what it was-anger, pain, or something deeper he wasn't willing to reveal. She took a quiet breath and decided to gather the last fragments of her pride.

"You know, Sidharth," she said softly, keeping her voice steady, "not everything is about you. Not everyone's out to hurt you."

"Only if she knew," he thought.

He didn't respond, his gaze fixated somewhere in the distance, as if hoping to avoid her entirely.

"I don't know what made you think that all I want is to tear you down, but maybe you're wrong," she continued. "Maybe I'm not the enemy you think I am."

Still, he remained silent. The silence around them felt heavy, thick with words unspoken and emotions left unchecked.

Her voice softened even more, vulnerability slipping in despite her attempts to sound indifferent. "That scooter you destroyed belonged to my late grandfather. My Grandpa... he loved me a lot. Treated me like a princess. We were more like best friends. I loved him so much."

Sidharth finally looked at her, noticing her eyes moist with tears. Pain and guilt twisted inside him as he began to understand the depth of what he'd ruined. He didn't speak, letting her continue, wanting to know the story behind the scooter and why she'd reacted the way she had-why she'd slapped him in front of everyone and humiliated him with those sit-ups.

"That scooter was very special to him. To all of us, my family. It was red-my grandma's favorite color. She'd always dreamed of having a red scooter and going on dates with Grandpa." Her voice broke.

"But she died long ago when my dad was twenty. Grandpa wasn't wealthy like your father, Sidharth. He was a schoolteacher. We're a middle-class family."

He knew she wasn't taunting him about his wealth or trying to emphasize her family's financial situation. It was about something far deeper: the scooter's emotional value. He kept silent, letting her continue.

"When Grandpa retired, the first thing he bought with his savings was that scooter. He wanted to fulfil my grandma's dream."

"He used to take my dad on rides. Later, my dad took my mom on romantic dates with it. And when I was a kid, even after I'd grown a little, Grandpa used to take me on rides, like a date. He'd say I looked just like my grandma. He was trying to live out my grandma's dream through me." Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Sidharth's heart ached.

He reached out, about to wipe her tears, but she shook her head, stopping him. "Don't."

Her words felt like a knife, sharp and unforgiving, cutting deep into his heart. "I'm..."

"No need to say sorry. You didn't know." She finally looked up at him, her gaze piercing. "That wasn't just a random old scooter, Sidharth. It was a beautiful memory of my grandfather and his love for my grandma. It was special. It was an emotion for me. And you destroyed it. Then you hid it at your house. How can you expect me to stay calm and let you go easily?" She started to cry, hiding her face in her hands.

Sidharth was in shock, faced with her side of the truth. Shame washed over him; his actions had been reckless and thoughtless. Guilt gnawed at him, leaving him with no reason to hold onto his anger, to seek revenge, or to punish her.

What she did was justified. I would've done the same if I had a grandfather like hers, someone who'd loved me, treated me like a prince, and taken me on rides in memory of my grandma. Damn it!

Her sobbing broke through his thoughts. He immediately pulled her close, hugging her tightly, whispering soft apologies and gentle words. He knew it wouldn't fix the past, but maybe one day, she could forgive him-or maybe, he could forgive himself for what he'd done to her.

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