l e o n | s t i n g s

212 12 11
                                    

h i d d e n f e e l i n g s

e i g h t - p a r t o n e

l e o n

s t i n g s

I was angry.

He comes and gets angry at me, and says fuck me, and I -because I'm such a caring boyfriend, or secret boyfriend technically- run after him, and what do I find? Him sucking the face off Violetta.

Yes, I said I'd try to be okay with it. But I didn't think he'd actually still swap spits with her like that. I cringe when the image of them kissing enters my mind once again.

No.

No.

No.

I would not like him have this effect on me. I was stronger than that. I tell Francesca, that I can't pick her up. I try to find the best clothes that I had, which wasn't much, I realized I'm not a really stylish person.

I settled on a blue button up shirt, and black pants. I run a hand through my hair a few times, and try to fix it a little. I thought about asking Lara to come, and maybe I could make him jealous, but then it didn't seem like a good idea two seconds later.

I was terrible at this game.

He was amazing. Whenever I tried something he would also end up winning. He would make fall into his trap. Because he's just that much better. He could make me crumple, and it would end up in a kiss. He wins.

I lose.

I was still losing.

I give up in this love game.

When I arrive at the Studio, Francesca was waiting at the entrance, and she playing on her phone. I could tell she was playing a game, because of the crease between her eyebrows, whenever she was determined. She was competitive, even in a childish game like Geometry Dash.

She looks up, as if she'd sensed me. A look of relief spreads across her face when she sees me. She rushes over and gives me a tight hug.

"I was worried you might be sick. You never not pick me up," Francesca says worriedly.

I smiled at her and kissed her forehead.

"Thanks, it was just. . ." I trail off. It was just your sexily arrogant brother who betrayed me once again.

Would that work?

"It was my brother wasn't it?" Francesca sighs, and rubs her temple with her forefinger and middle finger.

"In my head it was your sexily arrogant brother," I correct her and giggles.

"I should've figured, he didn't come home. He's just lucky Mum and Dad were out for the next few days," Francesca says and instantly worry rushes over me.

He didn't come home? Was he okay? What if he was kidnapped? Where did he stay? Who did he stay with?

"I think your thousand questions can be answered right now," Francesca gestures behind me.

Hidden Feelings | ✓Where stories live. Discover now