𝐌𝐢 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫 || 𝖳𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗇𝗈

꧁~Good Morning~(LXVIII)꧂

c.68

'Good morning' the sun said to the Earth as night broke into day.

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With one or two pokes to the cheek, I opened my eyes and swatted the hand.

"Good morning, María," Charlie said from the right of me, "tis time to get up and get ready."

"How early is it?"

Markus glanced at the digital clock that was out of my view, "6:21 a.m."

I nodded lazily, rolling over to grab my phone from the charger to check my notifications.

One text, exactly thirty minutes ago from Techno.

_______________________________

★ Techno ★

Hey, are you awake
yet? >

< yeah I just woke up

_______________________________

Turning away from my phone, I looked back to my older siblings, "I'll be downstairs after I change."

And on that cue, they made their way out of my room, closing the door.

Kicking the blankets off, I got to my feet and walked to the closet, picking up the clothes I had decided on yesterday. Denim paperbag shorts, white square-neck tank top, a light fern green long cardigan, and high top white Converse.

Once changed, I just sat and watched myself in the mirror. The room fell silent. Flames of hatred only grew, hungry and to be fed by scraps.

It wouldn't have mattered if I admitted to forgiving him, it doesn't change what happened. He'd still be in trouble.

But that's not the real reason I feel guilty for saying nothing... I should have at least let him know I didn't hate him. Yet, I managed to only hate myself more.

I didn't truly hate myself, not truly. But, stupid and irrational, I wanted to be in the wrong of every right, the damage through every fight, haunted from darkness whereas be light. Thinking I was only ever capable of taking what I could never deserve, I held myself guilty and ashamed.

So I sat there, staring at who I was said to be. When I grimaced, it did too.

With thoughts trying to resurface, I was quick to stand up and leave the room, avoiding my own judgmental gaze.

~~~~

7:13 a.m.

My whole family was in the car, glances coming my way, but nothing was said until dad spoke up from the driver's seat.

"Don't forget to call us."

I could sense the small stress in my father's voice, and the specks of worry in my mother's eyes.

"I won't, I promise," a weariness in my smile as the nerves slowly spiraled.

A yanking of my sleeve grabbed my attention. Focusing on Zack, he quietly asked, "so is Techno actually as rich as you said?"

"What?"

Zack and I turned to Charlie, sitting in the very back row of seats.

"Techno's rich?" he questioned, well above quiet.