Selfie With The Mafia

Book II - | 7 |

I shook my head, denying what he believed. "I hurt you," I choked out the remaining reminiscences of my faults, ending it on my back. "..Again." I finished, the dark sky dragging my every bad decisions, every regrets with me.

It was anguishing.

And I couldn't even blame the unfortunate fate's play.

"That doesn't matters now, okay? It was my very own choice to be here for you. It wasn't because of...love," he paused, letting his words to sink for himself, "It's because you're my best friend. And I couldn't see you suffering by someone who didn't give a shıt about you."

I ran a finger across my cheek, wiping the tears off, suddenly feeling that old rational and pathetic Ava all over again. "It's stupid, right? What love does to you and how it changes you. Fūcking bullshıt." I spat, gritting my teeth in utter riddance.

Drake chuckled, bemused at my outcome of emotion and corrected, "it's not bullshıt, Ava. We just make it differently to feel, I would rather prefer the opposite assumption."

"I beg to differ, Drake. Because it never ceased to disappoint me. And I don't think I could be able to see it in either way possible."

"Hey-- Listen," he leaned down where I laid on his lap and grabbed my face, gazing into my eyes.

"If you can change your way of loving someone, then you would see it as something beautiful and unconditionally surreal. Everything seems perfect but," he laughed dryly before continuing, "It's just an illusion. Beauty and perfection are illusion, that's why nobody is perfect and equally beautiful in this world. There will always be something dull about them, you'll be curious to find out what they lack just so you could believe and categorise them as not completely perfect."

I nodded, my mind trying to figure out on what he was pointing. Drake always had his words and beliefs in long notes like music in his head, so that he could clear his point quite metaphorically and I wouldn't have wanted anything but to be eager about his short definition of what I assumed to be love.

"Can you just hit straight to the--" he cut me off by laughing at my tiny bit of interest.
"That's exactly what love is. It doesn't let you see anything else. There's no imperfections. You are happy, eternal pleasure strikes your body, your bones are breaking but there is no pain because you are in love. It either makes you the most delighted or the most devastated."

"Which is--" I cleared my throat and asked, "what do you think.. is my case?" I knew what my kind was, I definitely knew but it would be a lot easier to hear it from other's mouth, for it could be less painful or so I thought.

Drake sighed, looking away from me, certainly wanting me to take back what I just asked. However, he looked into my eyes again and suddenly there was something similar about the way he stared, like someone used to look at me the same way he did.

And that little memento was efficient enough to ruin the little good moment.

"I'm sorry," Drake's voice filled in my wrecked thoughts, bringing me back to the same pain where my wounds were still fresh without any medication.

I closed my eyes, wanting to make everything back to normal. Where we were in university, studying, bıtchin', partying and having fun, where nothing mattered except family and friends.

I sobbed, experiencing the agony all over again. "Please, take me to a hospital. It hurts--" I sucked in a deep breath, struggling to keep my emotions in check while doing nothing but weeping on my mistakes.