Reader. Writer. Romantic.

Two Sides of the Same

He found her huddled in a corner, her clothes torn and blood stained. She was shivering uncontrollably and sobbing quietly.

“What’s the matter?” he asked softly, sliding down the wall next to her.

She looked up at him and buried her face in her hands in shame. He put his arm around her and pulled her close.

“Who did this to you?” he whispered.

She shook her head and continued sobbing.

He sat with his arm around her until she had cried herself to sleep. Gently, he rose, taking her with him back to his car, driving them to the hospital. He watched as the nurses and doctors ran around flurried, cleaning her up, tending to her wounds. Not once did she wake up. Not once did she stir. He did not leave even after visiting hours ended and out of pity, they let him stay. He stayed by her side, holding her hand, watching her sleep. In the morning he woke her up.

She rubbed her eyes, not knowing what was going on at first, not remembering what had happened the night before. Then she saw him in the doorway and nearly bolted.

Their eyes met, the one who had sat with her in the night and the one in the doorway.

“Leave,” he growled as she cowered under the sheets clutching his hand to her heart.

The other merely smirked at him, taking a step forward.

He stood, his hand still in hers.

“You wanted it as bad as I did,” he said.

The first shook his head, “There was no way I would do something like that to her.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you?” challenged the other, “You’ve always pretended, always used the ‘nice guy’ act to manipulate her. You were no better than me. Only I had the courage to do what you could not.”

“I never did that to manipulate her! I’d never lie to her!” the first exclaimed hotly.

“Oh? Do you think she’d come if I asked her to?” smirked the other.

“Never, not after how you hurt her,” said the first shaking his head.

“I never hurt her. I let her know what I would do. I asked for her consent,” said the other.

It was clear who was in control now.

“She would never consent to that brutality you call love,” said the first disgusted.

“She’s right there, ask her yourself,” said the other with a shrug.

He turned to her and whispered softly to her, “What happened? Who did this to you?”

Again she shook her head and refused to answer.

“Why?! Why don’t you answer! WHO’S HURT YOU?! WHO DID THIS TO YOU?” he exploded.

The one in the doorway chuckled, “I think we both know the answer to that question.”

He turned on him, “How dare you?! Who do you think you are coming here, pretending that you care and taking away everything that ever meant anything to me?”

“I never took anything away from you. I only gave you what you truly wanted,” answered the other seriously, “I only did that which we both desired. I did what was right for us.”

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