Oliver's POV
" What? What did you say? ", he said, pretending not to hear me but he stopped his hand.
Now he was just holding my shoulder tightly without pressing it or trying to hurt it.
I think he understood that the blood was oozing out and soon it will be visible through my white shirt but, he was not the type to stop hurting till he gets what want.
" I am sorry. ", I repeated, beating myself in my mind about being a coward and not fighting back.
He is not someone I can handle on my own. More over, my legs still give away the moment I see him. I have no idea how I stand in front of him and even have any kind of conversation with him, without passing out.
" Then why do you keep on doing things you know you will have to apologize about later. ", he said, moving his hand from my shoulder to my head, stroking my head like a pet.
" I am sorry. ", I just replied, fuming with anger and despair.
