Chapter 37

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HELLO, HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER THAN I DO. x. THE LETTER ON THE TOP WAS WRITTEN ON MONDAY 23/03/15 TO THANK YOU FOR 20K AND FOR THE VOTES ON THE WATTYS. 3/4 OF THIS CHAPTER WAS WRITTEN BEFORE THE ANNOUNCEMENT SO EXCUSE THE CLUMSINESS AT THE END.

-Tarzan-

*37*

Evelyn's POV

The words left my mouth smoothly as if I was prepared to let them out in years. I had just been waiting for the one I would trust enough to confess myself. My vision became blurry with the unstoppable tears that ran out of my eyes. Since the beginning, my eyes trailed on the ceiling in a blank stare, but when I was given a glass of water to cool down to regain my voice, I watched Styles. I couldn't fully see his face, hidden behind my unclear vision. I could only distinguish his lips and his hair.

He had been extremely gentle with me, asking if I didn't want to stop the story before I ended up too depressive. He sometimes asked me how I felt and told me he perfectly understood my reactions despite the fact that I went the wrong way.

Laying myself back on the couch, I had lace my fingers together on the top of my belly. Taking a huge sigh, on its way to my lungs, the air drained my throat. My voice remained as croaky as before, if not worse.

"Evelyn, we can just do something else. And if you feel like, we'll continue later." He softly said, but I shook my head. I didn't know if I was blinded by the fact that he had mesmerized me for a while, but I thought Styles was good at this. He never contradicted my reasons, he never judged my aggressive reactions and he made me feel protected without any physical contact. No reassuring smile. No touch. Only words and the feeling of his presence held me tranquil.

"No, no, I can handle this till the end." I replied weakly, looking back at the ceiling.

**~**

I was peacefully studying geography lessons in my room on a cold Wednesday morning when I heard knocks at the door. It was six in the morning and I was praying I wouldn't have to leave my room for classes downstairs. I shoved my feet into my moccasins and walked towards the door. It was opened before I even reached it, showing two tall women in the frame: Mrs. Rosenberg and my mother. The two faces froze me on my spot before they both greeted me. They both smiled as if they meant it.

"Good morning, sweetie!" Mrs. Rosenberg greeted with the fakest smile on earth. She was hugest hypocrite I'd ever met. "Look who's coming to see you."

It was Wednesday, which meant that no parent didn't have to visit us at the mansion. My mother entered the room, placing her handbag on my king-sized bed along with a bag surely full of stuff for me. She used to bring me some things from her travels: expensive clothes, chocolate from Swiss or couturier shoes. Even my room was the biggest of the mansion, due to her special demand. However, since my childhood, no materialistic things mattered to me.

"Good morning, mum." I saluted her, taking a seat on my bed while she sat on the chair where I had previously been.

"Good morning Evelyn." She responded, checking at the order of my room, the books on my desk and a few clothes that laid on the floor. I wasn't flawless, but she needed me to. The rare times she visited me, she questioned me about my studies and my material needs. She didn't come to visit me in months, I lost the count when the number reached four months. "I heard about your fight at the dining room."

Business (completed) |H.S|Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora