His Little Flame

Chapter 19: Fuck You

☼ Elias ☼

"Elias," Maeve says, grabbing my hand. I look down, meeting her eyes with mine. Even now—when I'm fucking livid—she still looks so beautiful. "I understand how you feel, I miss my dad—my parents too," she smiles weakly at me.

Her words feel like a force punching me in the cock. I snatch my hand out of her small one and run it through my messy hair while scoffing.

She understands how I feel? Little Ms. Happy all the fucking time understands how I feel?

What a fucking joke.

"You understand?" I repeat and Maeve looks taken back by my brutal tone, "how the fuck would you know how the hell I feel?!" I yell at Maeve.

Maeve takes a minor step back, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.

I need to stop, she'll have another attack but I can't stop yelling, all I can see is red.

"You couldn't possibly understand shit, do you know how fucking horrible it is to lose a fucking parent—someone you grew up seeing every—fucking—day until they suddenly just disappear?! Do you even understand how it is to not be so fucking cheerful all the fucking time?" I yell, clenching my fists, feeling my nails dig into my palms. "You fucking left! You left your family in France, you can go back and see them! I watched my dad die, Maeve!"

"Th-That's n-not-," I refuse to let Maeve speak. Her eyes turn glossy, threatening to pour hot tears but she holds them back, not wanting me to see her cry.

"What? Mommy and daddy didn't fucking love you enough so you ran away?!" I lower my head to match Maeve's height, "you could never understand how I feel, we are not the same—You ran, you were the one who disappeared... you're a coward."

A loud smack echoes through the room, followed by the searing burn of my cheek. Maeve stares at her trembling hand before pulling it to her chest.

She slapped me...

Neither Maeve nor I turn to look at the others, all we get from them are surprised gasps that float through the room, which are quickly drowned out by silence.

Maeve fails her fight against her own emotions and tears run down her cheeks rapidly, her breathing so heavy I can't tell if she's having an attack or not. The expression she sends me makes me feel like someone's pushing hundreds of tiny shards of glass into my chest. Each prick drawing an abundance of crimson blood.

All the pigment in Maeve's eyes fade, no ounce of color or emotion left. Her eyes look so dead... her eyes were so distant despite her being right in front of me.

"What's my middle name? My favorite color? When's my birthday, Mr. Armani?" Maeve spits out my name with such fury it sends a shiver down my spine.

Why's she asking me these questions? More importantly, why don't I know the answers?

"You don't know a single thing about me past my name, you had no right..." Maeve cries tears of frustration and anger.

Why didn't I just shut my mouth and hold it in?

"Fuck you, Elias," Maeve mumbles through her cracking voice before running out of the room.