TORTURED SOUL | abby littman

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲.

Rowan knew he was right. She had been apart from Cam longer than she wished but she knew she wasn't ready to see him again and she sure as hell wasn't ready to be stuck in her house with her damn teacher who left her suffer in silence. She already felt like she was drowning but if she was in that house again, she'd be drowning with no escape. She'd be trapped like she was the same way in Hugo's house.

Rowan couldn't handle that.

But she didn't have a choice anymore.

Just like that, the freedom she had sought her entire life was ripped away from her.

    
    
    
    
    

° ✩ • ☽ ° ✩ •

    
    
    
    
    

Rowan hated how cosy this place was. She hated how much it felt like a home. She hated seeing Cam's drawings being stuck on the walls, she hated how the kitchen had a constant scent of coffee, she hated how comfortable and safe Acree seemed as she prepared something on the hob and she especially hated that this was exactly how she imagined a home to be when praying for someone to take her away from Hugo's house.

Rowan hated it all.

She hated how soft the blanket she was sitting on felt under her hands as she spread her fingers out, she hated how she could sink back into the sofa without any sense of fear or urgency to leave if things get rough. She hated how she knew she could get used to this if she wanted to.

She didn't.

It was the last thing she wanted.

"Here you go." Rowan was pulled from her thoughts when a cup was placed down on the table in front of her; hot chocolate if she had to guess, topped with whipped cream. "I'd offer coffee but I'm not sure I have some right now so I figured, who doesn't love hot chocolate?"

"I'm not a fucking kid." Rowan did happen to like hot chocolate but she wasn't going to give Acree the satisfaction of knowing that, keeping up her glare as she looked up at the hovering woman.

"I know that," Acree replied, scratching the back of her neck nervously. She had told Rowan to call her Raya to make things more comfortable but Rowan downright refused to do that. That meant giving into this entire thing, to accept it, and Rowan did not want to do that.

It was bullshit. Why should she accept it?

"Look, Rowan, you don't have to like me," Acree said, still standing in front of the younger girl. "I understand why you don't. But Cam likes it here. He really likes it here and I know I'm not his mother but what's the harm if he thinks of me as such?" Rowan could think of a lot of harm with that, namely the pain he'll experience when Acree ends up leaving too. "Saying that, however, I am not trying to be your mother―"

"Good," Rowan cut her off sharply. "'Cause I don't need one."

"Everyone needs one," Acree replied softly.

"Not everyone is lucky enough to have one but you know all about that, don't you?" Rowan didn't return Acree's softness. Acree didn't deserve that. Not after leaving Rowan to rot. No, it didn't matter if Cam liked her, Rowan didn't need to. She was going to stick to her plan―leave at eighteen. It didn't matter to her anymore if Cam joined. That was up to him. But she was still leaving and there was no point accepting Acree as a motherly figure if it was only for two years.

"I did what I thought was best. Letting you leave messages to someone who hurt you seemed like the right thing."

"It wasn't."