Chapter 2-Talk You Down

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Danny

I watch her as she begins to pack her things in her big, purple suitcase that I've carried to the airport in Dublin city so many times before.

She packs her clothes, leaving my closet half empty. She packs her makeup that clutters up my bathroom and her many shoes that are stored under our bed.

I follow her with my eyes as she tears through the bedroom collecting all evidence that she was ever here.

She grabs one of my t-shirts and quickly shoves it in her bag, hoping I don't see it. But I do.

"Bryna, you can't have that, it's mine." I say taking it out of her bag.

"It's my favorite." she whines.

"Well it's my favorite too." I say. "And as I recall it belongs to me. You already took my heart you can't take this too."

"Danny," she groans.

"What?"

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Moping around like that...it's making me sick."

"What, you want me to stop being upset about this? That's not going to happen Bryna!"

"There's that fight I was looking for." she says so softly I barely hear her. I probably wasn't meant to.

"You're the one leaving me." I say sternly. "You shouldn't be talking. Now give me back my fucking t-shirt."

"Fine!" she says taking the shirt and throwing it at me. "You've won this battle Daniel."

But not the war, I think to myself.

She twists off her engagement ring as well and throws that at me. It hits me right in the forehead. She never misses.

"Ouch!" I cry.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry," she says as she approaches me. She's forgetting that she's supposed to be mad at me.

I sigh as she rubs the mark on my forehead.

"Maybe you do still love me." I say looking up into her beautiful, celestial, blue eyes.

She turns away.

"Well, you are definitely not making this easy." she says.

"And I'm supposed to?"

"I never said that!" she screams.

I hope she's regretting wanting a fight.

She takes her suitcase and drags it out of the bedroom lugging it down the large wooden staircase.

I follow her, still yapping in her ear.

She steps down into the living room and picks up all of her belongings, her movies, her CDs, her video games, her PlayStation controller...all gone.

"Is it something I've said?" I ask.

"No Danny."

"Then what is it?" I ask. "I can fix this."

"It's what you didn't say." she says as she gathers all her art supplies from her gallery.

What is that supposed to mean?

"Bryna..." I ask her.

"What?" she snaps. She turns around to face me giving me this irritated glare. She drops the box of acrylic paints in the process, sighing and bending down to pick them up.

Stick To the Script // Danny O'DonoghueWhere stories live. Discover now