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(a/n: life is a seafood platter and I am cheese

edit: i posted this to my insta story and people DARED to say that cheese tastes good w seafood. A) NO. B) I DON'T LIKE SEAFOOD NOR DO I ENJOY HARDENED CHEESE. SUCK ON MYBALLSLSS)

Chapter Forty

Everyone was entitled to their faults.

Rannia slipped the long dress up her thighs and pulled it snug against her hips as she settled it around her waist. She wiggled, turned, and eyed herself in the mirror. Before her was a beautiful, innocent girl, with wide eyes and thick lashes, with tinted skin that enhanced her features, and sweet red lips. But she was not that girl inside.

It had been a long time since Rannia had seen that little girl.

"You look beautiful."

Rannia twirled in place to see Dean standing in the doorway of her childhood bedroom, shoulder rested against the doorframe and composure loose.

"I know," she said, smiling.

At this, Dean broke into a big smile. "Come on," he said, reaching out an arm for her to take. Rannia's feet moved forward. Her hand met her brother's arm, and he led her into the rest of the family home. Waiting for them was her mom and her two older brothers.

"You don't look like trash," Ian commented. He stepped forward and pulled an arm from his pocket, reaching forward to rub the top of Rannia's head. At the gesture, she recoiled and glared at him.

"Fuck you, this hair took forever," she snapped.

"Doesn't look like it," her third brother added from the back. All the other Romero siblings ignored him, as he was used to; it was only customary.

"Mom?" Rannia added, peering over Ian and Dean's shoulders to see her mom tearing up, hiding in the kitchen doorway.

"Not crying," her mom snapped, wiping furiously at her eyes. "It's just...it's so wonderful to see my baby girl all grown up." The woman rushed forward and engulfed her daughter in her arms, clinging tight. Rannia froze at first, unused to the motherly affection. But eventually, she softened, and her arms were found around her mother once again.

Mrs. Romero pulled back and cupped Rannia's cheeks, cooing. "You've become such a beautiful young woman. Your father would be proud."

Rannia offered a weak smile. "Mom, you're talking like he's dead."

"Close to it," Dean mumbled sourly, earning a quick slap from Ian.

"That's dad you're talking about--"

"I know," Dean replied sheepishly, "but it's not like he's here."

---

Dashing had never been a word to describe Mykel. If anything, rugged suited him well. Disheveled in both matter and mind, he seemed a put-together mess; a mess that glared.

The couple passed people in the busy hall. With one arm swooped along Rannia's lower waist--a bit 'territorial', as she'd so sarcastically remarked when the caveman had first grabbed her upon sight--he held her close, strangely so for a man so distanced. And she, a girl of lies and deceit, displayed herself on his arm, making a show to glance suggestively at any passing men, finding quite some joy in the angry grumblings it produced from her date.

"You're going to piss yourself if you don't loosen up," Rannia whispered snarkily in his ear, making a show of pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling as his entire body tensed even further at her words.

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