Fly Away

42 - glass proofing

Song: ZAYN - I Don't wanna Live Forever ft. Taylor Swift (Slowed and Reverb)

TW: SELF HARM

Rocco

Stunned.

That's not even the correct word to use in this situation, because right now, I'm devastated. 

Although I don't show it. I keep my face as plain as day, my mouth grim, but I know my heart gives away everything. Well, at least to me it does. 

I can't seem to take my eyes off of the familiar face. Green eyes. Same dark hair as mine and tall frame.

It can't be.

I'm probably hallucinating. My father is probably getting into my head, making me see her.

I keep my hands curled into fists, fingernails digging into my palm, but I welcome the pain. I need the distraction. The focus.

"Gianna darling, don't look so upset." My father seems to have recovered from his laughing fit, and is now staring straight ahead in the direction of my sister.

My sister with her twin-like resemblance to my mother.

My mother who was killed because she betrayed my father.

My sister.

My sister the mole. 

Just like her mother.

If I were any other person in this situation right now, I probably would have dropped to my knees and started crying, but I don't because my father, and now my sister, don't deserve to see me weak. 

I blink, taking in the defeated, heartbroken look on Gianna's face. She had the nerve all right. To cause this in the first place. To lead us on, fake it, fake fucking everything.

Ren. Fuck. He never deserved any of this either.

"Rocco, I had to, I swear-"

"I don't want to hear a fucking word out of your traitorous mouth." My father's sharp voice sliced through the air, cutting away any hope of love, any hope of family.

I know I need to hear what she has to say, but right now I can't. I have to check on Mia. I need to.

Of course I still love my sister, but any affection and care she would have earned from me is gone. Vanished. Discarded. Lain to waste with the rest of my disappointing life. 

"I need to make sure that he was safe." 

My heart sinks. All this for a fucking man. 

"You little-"

"Enough." I say, my firm voice surprising even me, and Gianna flinches against the harshness. I don't care, because who I do care about is the woman who's probably somewhere alone thinking up all of the worst possibilities of the truth. 

All I've been thinking about for the past few months is the mole. Who it is, how they're getting all the information, and why. Always the same questions, but right now all I want to know is if Mia is okay. She's been hit the hardest with all of this, and I need to fix everything. I need to make everything right with her, because I lo-