#𝟑 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘
𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀 : She claimed to hate him, but for what reason? She went around with a "bitchy" personality, not wanting people to see through her. Her life was slowly crumbling into pieces, but he was always there to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Lana, green is your color." I state, dropping my hands.
I didn't fall asleep with Nico, I slept in dahlia's room. Last we spoke was yesterday when I left.
She tilts her head as if she's thinking, staring at her figure in the mirror.
"It's tight." As soon as those words leave her mouth, I fight the urge to get up and throw hands at who ever filled her mind with bullshit.
"So?" I mutter in disbelief, staring at the dress that hugs her perfectly. This girl needs to understand that many women would die for her body.
"You look so hot I could eat you." I grin.
She turns away from the mirror, a quiet laugh escaping her. "I really don't want to go." She sighs, referring to Angelina— her sister's engagement party.
Basically this is all rowans fault, he just had to go and get blackmailed by Lana's father.
"Like I wanna I go?" I mutter, rolling my eyes. Alana's sister is so full of herself, she claims that just because her and Lana are half sisters, it doesn't make them blood. They have the same mother.
Lana mutters a few curses under her breath, grabbing her make up bag.
I walk into my closet, looking through my dresses. "Lin, did you talk to Nico?" Lana hums in question. I take a quick glance at her, biting the inside of my cheek.
"Uh," I clear my throat. "I pushed him away." I say, not feeling superior about it.
I care about Nico, okay? I just— I don't know.
Lana exhales a shaky breath, turning her head around to look at me. "I walked into my room and found flowers with uh— a note." I dig my nails into my palm, fighting back my tears.
I tense when I hear a knock on my door. I take a deep breath, clearing my throat. "Come in." I say, walking out of my closet with a dress in my hands.
My door flies open and Michael walks in with a horrified expression on his face, blame Rowan.
"I can't do this. For gods sake, Angelina wants to start a fight because I got the wrong flowers, she claims to have told me which flowers she wants which isn't true because I wouldn't have forgotten hence why—"
"Michael." I whine, throwing my head back with a groan, feeling my headache form by the second.
He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My stress levels are heightening, Catalina."
