Trouble in Paradise

I widened my eyes, my gaze bloodshot. I gripped his wrists tightly as I stared at his left arm. "W-Why?"

I inhaled sharply, unable to imagine the searing pain of such an extensive tattoo being etched into his flesh. And why... Why was it my face? To me, it should be Claudia's face that would make all of this seem real to me.

The complex scars were connected by black lines. I could make out every delicate strand of hair, drawn with such precision it felt like an artist's masterpiece.

The only unmarred patch of skin on his arm was tattooed with my cheek. The slightly swollen area happened to be where the lips were. I thought it was the result of a burn from earlier, but Nicholas's next words shattered all my assumptions. "The tattoo you see took me three years. It was only finished the night before you returned to the country. For three years, every time I thought of you, I had the tattoo artist add a stroke to my arm.

"It took a total of 1,012 days to tattoo your face. Every time I thought of you, you made me hurt! When I was sick, it felt so good as if I had found a way to replace self-harm.

"I missed you like crazy, but over time it stopped working. The pain couldn't alleviate the ache in my heart, and my body grew increasingly numb.

"I asked the tattoo artist to ink your eyes and brows as the very last step. I thought, after three years, I should be able to forget your face."

Nicholas tightened his grip around my neck. "But strangely, your image has only become clearer in my memory."

I gasped for air, desperately pounding on Nicholas's body. He probably didn't mean to strangle me to death. He just sneered before releasing me, full of disdain.

My legs gave out. I collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath as tears flowed freely like a dam bursting.

The way he looked at me was full of accusation, But love didn't work that way. The one who couldn't move on wasn't necessarily the one who was right. And just because someone felt more pain didn't give them the right to be louder in an argument.

When I spoke again, my voice was hoarse and choked with emotion.

"Nicholas, isn't a divorce like cutting off the past, shouldn't everything be written off at that moment? Divorce is meant to separate two lives that were bound together, why are you still"

"Who wants to separate? Who the hell wants to separate from you!" Before I could finish, he suddenly interrupted me in a rage, "Why! Why! You just keep asking why!"

The bitterness in his heart surged. He wanted to know why too, but who could tell him the reason?

"What a great way to cut off the past," he muttered, lost in thought. "What a way to write everything off..."

Could love be written off? He had once scoffed at the idea of love, thinking he could have whatever he wanted in life. How insane he could be to waste time feeling lost because of love. But later, he told me countless times, "I love you."

He said it while kissing, while making love, when it ended, when he missed her, and when he begged her to stay! The more he said it, the more pathetic he became...

And what did he get in return? I had never believed him, and now I wanted to write everything off.

Nicholas stared down at me, hisText © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

voice ice cold "Ariana, do you know how to write off hatred? You have to let me push you around, let me get my revenge. You have to wait until the day I say it can be written off before it can be truly written off!"