"You can't just touch me whenever you want. I'm not your property. Stop showing concern as if you care."

Her fingers unclasped his callous palm from her elbow, which had resisted her movement.

His face was devoid of any emotions after knowing her affection was nothing but a facade of lies. Yet he moved on. The fact that her heart lied, but her right cerebral was still synchronised to his heart, brain, body and, most importantly, soul.

"You're mistaken. Not only do I care; I step on what I had promised you. To protect you in every situation. My concern isn't your concern, precious."

Her mouth made a subtle laugh, hissing at the end.

"Protect?" Her chest rose while she inhaled.

"To protect me, you need to have some relation with me. Tsk. Sadly, there's none. So your duty ends there. I'm no one to you; get that."

She turned her heels to walk away, but he gripped her arms, pushing her against the wall and caging her.

Her nostrils flared, her tiny palms against his stony chest, forcing him to move, but all her power went in vain when he stared straight into her dark brown orbs and pinned her wrists above her head. Her heartbeat quickened.

A small smirk lifted on his corner lip.

She blamed. He felt relieved. She was talking to him, blaming him, hating him. How much he had yearned for her, her single glance, her eyes to look at him, blame him, but at least talk to him.

A deep pain gauges inside his heart. His voice was cold, and his eyes burnt with deep tremors.

"I'm your father's killer. Aren't I? We do have a relationship. I'm a murderer who killed your father intentionally, didn't I?" His jaw ticked, his eyes piercingly staring into her.

She gulped the saliva with his unacknowledged words. Her eyes burnt with a soft tremor in her heart. Her eyes fluttered to his harmless allegations. She knew it was an accident. A pre-planned accident to kill him and his mother, yet she always blamed him. But now that he was accepting. She wasn't willing to digest it.

"I— I didn't m-mean th—"

He pressed his fingers to shut her lips, his eyes closed, touching his forehead to her, 

"Shhh. Not a word, Sanjana. I can't take any more hatred from you. Please. Let's stop this. Stop whatever we had. Forget we met. Forget you ever tricked me to – lo- love you. That I lied about marrying Paris and hid the accident's truth from you. Let's just forget we even know each other."

Their bodies remained stiff to each other, itching to embrace the magnetic pull. Their breaths mingled, but neither of them made a step.

He inhaled sharply, stepping away from her. Stepping back while still looking into her eyes.

There was pain in her eyes. Deep, reflexive, agonising that made her see through his misery. He was in pain too; he lost his mother, but she wouldn't accept that he lied to her. About Paris and everything, her honour wouldn't allow her to do it and move on from everything they had.

"I can't forget everything, Heer. I can't. I've lost everything. Always. Even not talking about it, I had feelings for you—"

She didn't realise her cheeks were wet with the tears.

Heer listened to her words carefully.

Inhaling largely, she bravely looked up, speaking what her evils told. "I did not love you. I just thought of you as a good person. It was all a facade; accept it and move on."

Heer chuckled listening to her.

"I waited for a freaking year, thinking you might need time to accept that it was an accident; I did not plan it. I was a teenager. I accept it. And even after knowing you faked your love for me just to bring Paris back to Tristan, that's so much nicer, precious. In return for your betrayal. I seem to not mind it after knowing it's you who can either make me or stab me to death, and I won't even utter a single word."

Her eyes erupted with a flood of emotions swirling inside her. Her voice was merely a whisper. "It was all fake. I don't love you. Let me go. I can't live here. It suffocates me."

"That's what your venomous words are doing to me, precious."

"Then I will find a way to escape. Either you release me, or else I can't assure you of the rest, Heer."

He felt so relieved, utterly delighted. She was calling him by his name, that too with softness. With a hint of threat, but that mattered less to him.

A smirk covered the corner of his lip as he grabbed her wrist, swiftly pushing her onto the bed, hovering over her petite figure.

He grabbed and pinned her wrists above her head; the sound of her wincing felt melodious to his ears.

She wiggled but then halted when he touched their foreheads together to feel what he was already absorbed in.

It took her almost a year to realise she couldn't live without blaming him, hating him; she needed her revenge, to break him. And he was ready for it if she accompanied him. Even in hell, even in the devil's cage.

He was nine years older than her, and the age gap between them, the fact that she was a young girl for him, made the blood rush to each fibre in his body to protect her, touch her. She belongs to him. Or no one else's.

Feeling the heavy weight of his body above her was not new for her. But each time the memories were recalled, she couldn't stop herself from exploding.

The fact that Heer Parker, the person who basically is the heart and soul of the Hollywood industry and the dream husband of all aged ladies, had fucked her a year ago. Not once or twice but almost every time he saw her, he wanted to breathe her every second. Loved her like there was no tomorrow. Allowed her in his reserved zone. He fucking was, is in love with her.

She knew he never touched any woman after a fling, yet he gave her the power to touch him, love him, whenever she needed comfort, demanded. She even researched the actresses he had dated; they still cannot forget his touch, even being married and carrying kids, talking about his masculinity in interviews. It was fucking insane for her to believe she decided to fake love for a person who was physically, emotionally, and financially owned so many things around her, around the city she lived in, the country she breathed, and the heart where he still lived. Yet was unaware of his influence.

It was just a year back; he was hers. Yet, she restricted herself. What made her do that?

The basic truth is that he was the killer of her father; he was the one who gave her extreme happiness and the one who snatched them with one single truth.

He was shattered knowing he was her father's culprit. He was tormented when his own brother backstabbed him. But he has grasped everything, slowly. But the simple fact that her love was all a facade made him feel dead.

One year, and he was sure he wouldn't survive without her anymore. He needed her; sending her flowers, letters, and apologies was just a waste of time now. He realised she needed to know she was at fault too. And even if he hurt her indirectly, he was ready for punishment; one had already been done with her negligence to his appearance.

He was sure to have her before she betrayed her own heart and dated another man. Not accepted at all.

"Let me go." Her words echoed in his ears.

"Letting you go for a year was my mistake, peach. Heer Parker never gives a chance for another. I will make sure to cage your heart so that it just pronounces my name."

"You aren't doing that." She hissed, in between those gritted teeth. "I can't tell you how piercingly and endlessly I want to hate you, destroy you."

He leaned closer, feeling her after almost a year; the sensation, the warmth of her body, her natural body fragrance – it was all the same, all fucking sane, driving him insane.

His lips crossed the boundary, pecking the corners of her lips; she didn't flinch, didn't protest, because deep inside, she yearned for him. He knew.

"Then do it. I am dying to have anything by you, peach. I'll accept gladly. Hate me, stab me, tear me, kill me, destroy me, but don't leave me; I will die. I don't want to exist in a life where there is no trace of you."

The breath of his mouth and the rashness of his heartbeats were all making her lose once again. He was dangerous with sweet bitterness. A poison.

"You're insane, Heer. You can't do this to me. Please, I don't love you. I fucking don't. I can't."

Her palms clamped with his chest. It was relaxing. His heartbeats. The touch of his cold, hard skin against her fingers was soothing him. He fucking enjoyed even her one glance; then this was a bloody touch, straight to his heart.

"I'm ready to become everything, anything for you. If insanity is what proves my love, yes, I'm insane." He brought her face to look at him, to look through his soul. He was burning, dying without her.

"I don't fucking love you, let alone love; I can't even stand your existence." She cried over his face, making a slight push.

"Resist the magnetic touch between us, and I'd believe you." His lips were about to touch hers.

"You can't touch me. Against my heart. You can't force me." His lower lip twitched with the upper one, pronouncing a low chuckle, and she hated to admit his hot appearance. She knew he wouldn't cross his boundaries without her approval; he was just testing her body. The body which always betrays when he is near.

"I'm not doing it either. I'll fail as a man the moment I force or make you feel I'm touching you against your agreement. Your discomfort is mine to take care of. I know how you react when uncomfortable and even know how you urge your heart to resist me even when it tempts me. Trust me, peach. I know each and every trace and curve and nature of your body."

His blue eyes look down upon her. She was so close; the position made him tighten around his pants so much; she was an irresistible elixir, and he wanted to lick off even the last drop and would never be done loving her.

"You'll touch me, love me, force me one day to do everything we've already done, precious, and I'll wait until you accept the heart that lies."

And she couldn't. Resisting him was an impossible task for her exactly when he was around her. She resisted the temptation for a year because he wasn't around. She hated to admit it; it bothered her.

A year ago,

One mistake, and she was being loved by him.

One mistake, and he was hated by her.

He had killed her father in an accident.

She had loved him just to break off his engagement.

It was all lies, yet she couldn't resist the charm to love him, drown in him. He was the charmer; she was his charm.

He was comfort, security and need, all in one.

It had a name.

Heer.

* * * * *

How's the prologue?

Do tell me.

— Love, Sanjana 🦋