❝ ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ sɪɢɴ ᴏғ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss;
ɪᴛ ɪs ᴀ sɪɢɴ ᴏғ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ. ɪᴛ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ
sᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅʏɪɴɢ sᴏᴜʟ ❞
~~~
🇬 🇦 🇧 🇷 🇮 🇪 🇱 🇱 🇦 :
My knuckles hit the oak door in a rhythmic motion, my heart racing in my chest.
Why am I doing this again?
I have no fucking clue. But it might be a force of habit. Scratch that. It most definitely is a force of habit.
His door swings open, and my eyes meet those familiar honey ones. My heart picks up further. His chestnut hair sticks out in random places, and his cheeks are flushed a light pink. I try not to let my eyes linger on his bare chest and the pyjama pants that hang loosely on his hips.
Calm the fuck down, heart!
He rubs his eyes, and a lazy smile tugs at his lips. “Ella? Something wrong?” He rasps, running a hand through his messy bed hair.
“Remember when you said I could talk to you about anything?” My question wakes him up in seconds, and familiarity flashes across his eyes.
“Of course I remember. Did something happen? Something with Hunter?” His jaw clenches.
“Well… sort of.”
♡♡♡
“Why are you telling me this? Why confide in me, of all people?” He asks. After I told him everything. From how I'd gotten kidnapped four years ago, to having to kill Aurora for freedom, to the nightmares and panic attacks from all the flashbacks, and every little thing in between.
My heart still beats rapidly in my chest. From the familiarity of it all. From how it feels like he never even left. I hate how he still has this hold on my heart, my feelings, and even after ripping my heart to shreds, I still love him as much as I did all those years ago. Maybe even more.
I hate that I don't hate him for all he's done to me.
“Because, Kaz. How would it look if I went to Hunter or Theo and said, ‘I was the one who killed your mother four years ago, and her ghost still haunts me to this day’?”
He leans back against the window pane of his bedroom window, a ghost of a smile playing along his lips.
“Fair point.”
“I just— I needed to get that off my chest before the guilt consumed me.”
“Well, I'm always here if you need me, El.” He says with a light smile. A smile that's barely visible, but somehow, I'm still able to see it. In the way his eyes sparkle and his smile lines indent his cheeks. It's there, but he's trying his best to hide it.
And that right there is my clear indication that the person sitting beside me is not the Kaz I grew up with. It's almost as if he'd grown up under a strict hand, and the formality, the emotionlessness, it's embedded into the very core of who he is. Or who he was. This isn't the Kaz I fell in love with.
“Then where were you six years ago when my father tried to rape me?” It slips out of my mouth before I can stop myself. His expression falters, but he's quick to mask it.
What did my father do to him?
“He touched you?” He asks. His voice is calm, but I can hear the anger trying to break through.
“Tried. He tried. I ran to my room and locked myself in there before he could.” His eyes soften, and relief dances in the honey depths. I feel anger rise up inside me. Hot, blind rage.
“But you weren't there when I cried myself to sleep for weeks after. I didn't go to school. I didn't eat. I couldn't even sleep. I could barely even stand, let alone leave that room. I'd prayed day in, day out, you'd come back to me. All I wanted was you by my side, Kaz. You promised—” My voice breaks, and so does my heart. Shattering before us, and he doesn't even attempt to glue the pieces back together.
He stays silent, and so do I. The only sound being the crickets and tree branches smacking against each other from the intensity of the night wind. My mouth starts to taste salty, and I realise then that I'm crying. Tears staining my cheeks, and all he does is give me a blank stare. His eyes are the familiar pools of honey I remember, but there seems to be no emotion behind them.
“You're not going to say anything? What happened to being there for me?” My bottom lip quivers as I speak.
“I changed my mind.”
“W-what?” He stands then, to his full height, and stares down his nose at me. An intimidation tactic. He's really trying to intimidate me? In a moment like this?
“But you promised, Kaz. All those years ago… we made an oath.”
“To make a promise is to bind oneself with an obligation. I do not feel obligated to care for you, Ella. Not anymore.”
“But—” he climbs through his bedroom window as if I've suddenly turned invisible. He doesn't glance my way once, as he shuts the window and locks it.
And I'm left sitting here with a broken heart and tear stained cheeks, wishing I'd listened to my brain and never confided in him.
YOU ARE READING
The Heart Wants What It Wants
Teen Fiction❝ She wanted a fresh start, He wanted normalcy, But their past had other plans. ❞ ~~~ For the majority of her life, Gabriella had to endure all the things a child should never have to experience. After nearly two years of planning to start afresh...
