𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘- 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

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7:44 pm


Tess's POV

Exhausted but I need to talk to Yanelie, I hate the fact she isn't speaking to me. But before I do that I need a shower first. I placed the pharmacy bag containing her prescribed pills and the house keys on the countertop. With a sigh of relief, I began to take off my shoes. Just as I was doing that, Yasmine came out from the room.

"You were gone for a minute." Yasmine pointed out.

"Needed some air." I stated. "Is she okay?" I then asked.

"Yes, she showered, ate and slept I was just waiting on you to come back I need to go back to HOME." She replied.

"My bad little one." I smiled.

"Can we talk it's about Yanelie." She then asked.

"Yea, sure." I responded.

"So, uh don't tell her I told you this, but Yan likes you, like—like you." She claimed. "She won't admit it, but the crying wasn't because she had an episode and nearly killed someone, because she killed before. The crying was because she nearly killed someone she actually liked and since y'all you know..."

"She told you?" I questioned Rhetorically.

"We're sister, we tell each other everything." She stated matter-factly. "Look, Yanelie is all I've got, and I'd kill for my sister, like I know she would for me. Yanelie may look carefree, but I know she's sensitive. She just laughs everything off. Right now, she thinks you hate her and don't want to be near her anymore."

"That's not true." I frowned.

"I tried telling her that, but I think she needs to hear it from you." She said.

"I've been trying to but she's the one who won't speak." I explained to her.

"Well, she's awake. Go talk to her. I'm heading out. If there's anything, call me," she said, grabbing her book bag from the counter and slinging it over her shoulder.

"Alright," I replied, watching as she began walking towards the front door. But then, she stopped in her tracks.

"And, uh, Tess," she called out, turning back to me.

"If you hurt my sister, I won't hesitate to kill you. And before you say you're not afraid of me or some shit, I might be small and young, but I'm really good with poison. I'll make sure you have a long and agonizing death," she said, grinning. "Bye," she added casually, like she didn't just threaten me before leaving.

The fuck? Did a eighteen year old who's barely five feet three threaten me and actually scared me?

I chuckled a bit, heading to Yanelie's room. Hesitantly, I knocked on the door and then opened it. She was sitting up, Indian style, watching something on the TV, looking like a whole ass kid. It was cute.

"Yan?" I called out, and she turned to look at me.

"Was the TV too loud? I'm sorry," she quickly apologized.

"No, I could barely hear it. I just wanted to talk to you... Are you feeling better?" I awkwardly asked, trying to break the tension.

"Yeah," she replied plainly, avoiding my gaze.

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝Where stories live. Discover now