(Messy plot)
(4/5 plot holes, maybe more)
𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐭 -
My hands dig into his shoulders, adjusting to the size of him inside of me. He gives me a few seconds, to him it probably felt like hours. Then he's moving, slowly at first. Our breath hits...
К сожалению, это изображение не соответствует нашим правилам. Чтобы продолжить публикацию, пожалуйста, удалите изображение или загрузите другое.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍
My mom's expression evolves more and more nervously as she rearranges the pillows to fulfill her liking.
Oliver's coming to town.
Fucking Oliver fields and his drug-dealing brain is arriving tonight. He's on a short break from UCLA, It's beyond me how he even got into College, let alone a major one like UCLA.
Oliver's like the son my mom wishes she had. Little does she know her perfect fake son sells drugs on the side and participates in underground fights.
Cousin or not he still made my fucking blood boil.
Him being a drug dealer should be a problem for me but whenever he comes to visit he never brings any of his supplies with him. Just two bags, a couple of hundred bucks, and his lucky silver ring his dad gave to him before he disappeared.
Picture perfect Oliver wasn't very perfect.
I'm not jealous of him just very Goddamn annoyed. Dream son Oliver is a bit of a loose screw. Way more than me in fact and that's saying something. The anger trait seemed to follow through all the men in the family.
Oliver lets his anger build he jokes around about things until he suddenly starts punching walls and picking fights with me.
Just like my dad he loves to take his anger out on me. Shoulder hits and his hands that punch my arms a little too hard to be playful.
The house is squeaky clean and the guest room is ready for Oliver to mess up.
The room Bella slept in. Her scent may or may not still be captured in the pillows.
I go to grab my coat off the rack before heading over to Apple bees where me and my friends are meeting to have lunch.
As I begin to head out, my mom calls for me "Westin before you go we need to talk."
She comes up to me wiping her wet hands off from a kitchen rag. "You have a session with Greg on Saturday afternoon." the rag seems to be her main focus as she continues to dry are already dry hands.
Wait-
"Saturday? No mom I can't I'm busy." Arabella pops up into my head as I imagine her excited face fall into a frown at the news.
She huff's agitated by my words "Westin this session is to check on you and your progress at school. You're going end of discussion."
