- 3 -

"You do realize that writing a book about your loneliness will only increase it?" He asked me with a bored tone as he lay upside down on my bed, his feet close to the headboard and his head laying limp at the edge when his dark brown eyes connected with mine.

"What's it to you?" I snapped a little harshly, pulling my legs closer to my chest as I hugged my knees and rest my cheek on them.

"I read it. With him. It was in that small silver laptop." He said, his voice echoing in the quiet room and I looked around to see why it was so eerily quiet at this time of day.

"Read what?" I asked bored, seemingly uninterested as I scanned my nails, panicking inside.

"You know what. God, the hatred, the jealousy and oh, the pain." He exclaimed dramatically with a hand on his heart when I rolled my eyes at his antics.

"It was fake. Copied it off of the internet." I said, trying to change the topic but he wouldn't have it.

"And the names? I doubt anyone would have the exact same names as us and the exact same birth dates, or appearance or parents, house, anything else for that matter." He stated with a challenging glint in his eye, knowing he was leaning closer to the truth.

"I know, I changed it a bit." The white lie flowed so easily out of my lips I even believed myself and for a second, I heard the disapproving grunt of my father.

What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"Huh. And here I thought you were writing a book about your boring and pathetic life." He said amused when I glared at him.

"What do you want?" I snapped at him as he sat up on the bed and looked at me with a sly smile.

"Nothing, I'm just bored." He sighed when I rolled my eyes at his behavior.

"Then go find someone else to annoy, I'm busy." I said and proceeded to rest my head back on my knees when he spoke.

"No you're not. You're just lazing around. Get up will you? We don't want to make a permanent dip in the sofa seat, now do we?" He asked me with a teasing tone when I groaned in frustration.

"I said I'm busy, okay? Just get out and go play some games or something." I ran a hand through my hair, tightening my ponytail.

"You're not doing anything but thinking." He stated when I gave him a bored look.

"It's called-"

"Deep thought, yeah, yeah, I know." He rolled his eyes before getting up from my bed and stalking over to the room door.

Finally, some peace.

"Stop thinking so much and zoning out all the time. Only proves how much of a loner you are." He said but I ignore him.

"Out." I said in a stern voice and a few moments later, I heard his retreating footsteps in the marble hallway before his room door was closed shut.

Where is everybody else?

But my thoughts seemed to drift back to his words.

"I read it. With him. It was in that small silver laptop."

With him.

A shudder went through me at the thought as I tried to push away all thoughts related to him, shoving away any unwanted feelings.

Snap out of it, it's not like he actually ever spoke about it.

But he spoke to baba about it, my inner voice argued when I sighed, frowning when I tried to recall if I ever told him anything of the sort.

But I never did.

Then how the hell did he know? And if he did, why didn't he speak to me? Why did he have to confront my father about all of it?

Now he thinks I rant about my feelings to everyone to gain their sympathies for an advantage because he knows what influence they have on him.

What influence he had on him.

"Why am I such an idiot?" I mumbled to myself in agony, feeling the shame and guilt eat me up as I tried to push my thoughts back into the locked corner of my mind.

Cold and unapproachable, I thought.

Stay like that, and no one would get in, so they won't ever have to get out either. Makes everything so much easier since you can't really trust anyone these days. Because the moment you do, they leave you, just like that.

Just like him.

I blinked my glossy eyes rapidly, yawning as I looked over at the slightly dusky sky heading off to nightfall.

Still nearly half the day left, I thought as I found a more comfortable position to sit in, my head resting on the arm rest of my sofa as I stared at nothing in particular, thoughts racing at a hundred miles per hour while I tried to make sense of everything that was happening before the harsh reality of life crashed down on me.

He knew.

He knew it all.