𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖒 | d.f. |

🦋 dominic8 🦋

i feel like the bitch now.

i never thought it was that bad. i didn't think she was suffering that intensely.

"you're so gorgeous," i compliment, "and you hold yourself together beautifully. i would've never disrespected you if i knew anything about your situation."

"you live with it," she shrugs.

"i'm so sorry."

she's strong.

years of bullying, abuse, and hatred.

has she ever experienced love?

"dominic. stop apologizing. besides i wanted to apologize about insulting your tattoo and indirectly insulting your sister. how old is she?" she asks.

"seven. she lives with my mom in florida."

"i bet you miss her. i wouldn't know. only child check."

"i do miss her. a lot actually. i hope she's okay."

i hope my mom's alright too.

"have you called your mom?" she questions.

"she calls me mostly. if i try, she doesn't really answer."

it was our rule for a while, when she wasn't being a stand up mom. she never expressed she wanted that to change so i assumed that it's the same way now, even if apple gets most of her love.

"sounds familiar."

"i know we just met but i'm glad you don't have to deal with that bullshit anymore," i tell her sliding my hands in my pockets, getting away from the thoughts of wondering if both of them are okay.

i can't take another heavy loss, so i'm going to believe that they're both okay.

"you know what's crazy?" soraya questions. "i told her i'd never shed a single tear when she died. and then she just... died." she's quiet for a moment. "she didn't deserve that cruel yet fast death. she deserved to rot in a hellhole, experiencing trauma, the way she made me experience!" she yells, shaking her head.

i would be pissed too. i've felt her anger before. i've felt the pain she's going to continue to feel, even if her mom is gone.

i've been in her spot.

but my mom changed.

and hers, didn't.

"maybe i should do this on my own," she says softly, looking up at the clear blue sky that holds no clouds.

her words hit me hard. a sense of abandonment snaking it's way into my thinking and emotions.

why would she come to me saying we should do this together, if the main goal is to eventually separate?

we create an incredible sensation when we simply touch!

why would she want to let that go?

i don't want to let it go.

it's the most amazing feeling i've ever experienced.

"then why say we should figure this out together?" i ask her, annoyance sneaking it's way into my tone.

she looks at me for a split second and focuses back on the empty road ahead of us.

"you getting attached to me already?" she smirks, pocketing her hands in her jean jacket.

"i mean, we may not do the same thing, but we're the same y'know? maybe splitting up isn't the best option considering that we're possibly the only two."

"SEVEN BILLION dominic. what are the chances of it being just us?"

"two out of seven billion?" i guess.

i'm not that good at math.

"inaccurate," she says shaking her head. it's a small silence as we walk side by side. "and i guess you're right," she shrugs. "for now."