𝕸𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖘

chapter xii

a ball of spit was wallowed down her coarsely dry throat, blinking her eyes rapidly as she could not blink them due to the heaving suspense. with a tremble in her voice, she called out—

"who's there?"

and the mystery man's voice replied—

"it's tommy."

nat's hand slapped blue's shoulder in alarm, signaling with her eyes a vibrating telepathy. between the two sisterly friends, blue knew from her sense not to unlock the door. the intense trembling in her hands ceased and she was no longer afraid—the imminent fear fled her body and the occupation in her mind traded for utter vacancy. although, what would she do now?

hearing the hellish sound of his voice boiled her blood. it was the same voice that spelled out the lies and the curses she left her vowing trust in for the two years she suffered at the hands of his mommy issues. all of the lies, all of the deceit.

how did he ever find her?

"come on, blue. open up. i just want to talk to you," his plea was uncomfortably distasteful with a voice that gave off an impression much like spoiled milk. sour, lumpy, and possibly the worst thing known to mankind. it sounded as if he was trying to sound sexy in an unsuccessful attempt. how ugly. it could make ears bleed.
and now, this grainy sense of fear was falling in an hourglass, only to become sands of fury and anger on the other side. she would never be afraid of a man who couldn't step out of his home. but, that was what made this so peculiar. how did he ever come out of his mother's house?

"what do you want? i'm not opening the door." blue growled—her eye still squinted out the peephole, observing the recognized face of a pitiful man. no, excuse me, boy.

"look, i-" tommy paused, running his hand through his elongated locks, looking like some sort of unshaven, dirty, dusty mess as he stood at the vacant porch of the front door. he was dressed in the same expensive black jeans and the same gothic black long sleeve blue had gotten him for a gift, oh, so long ago. she'd returned the few of his gifts back to him, but she'd never gotten a single thing back. "i wanna talk to you about how things ended between us. i still love you." it was the attachment. he held onto the gifts, trying to hold onto the fragments he had left of her love.

stood solemnly behind her, nat crossed her arms in discontent and a level of frustration and annoyance was gleaming in her glare at the door, wanting to open it and smack the man with all of her might. but, she held back and waited for blue to respond.
blue, on the other hand, was blown away by his pure ignorance and denial. his pathetic plea was stated as if he was the one who ended the relationship, not blue, and as if he was the only one in the relationship who wielded the ability on what they would do.

"no. we have nothing to talk about. i ended things with you because i went and wasted two years, trying to ask for the bare minimum for you to be a good boyfriend, trying to teach you how to love somebody, and to make the effort equal between us. you never loved me. you only loved that i took care of you and that everything was just so easy.
it's only clear to me now that you aren't going to change and i shouldn't be trying to. trying to make up for what you lacked from my side of the relationship was never my responsibility and i should've known better. i should have broken up with you sooner, for both of our sakes. i would never get back together with you. i mean it." the rant was profound with explosive emotion and displayed every thought blue had ever gathered in the result of their breakup. she meant every word and needed him to know—to let her go.

"but i'm ready now. can't you see that? every comment i've left on your instagram, every time i've tried to reach out to you, i meant it! i dream about you every night and i miss having you. i'm sorry, i just want us back together again. you're my soulmate."