"Why don't you just leave me alone?" I spit at him, the anger laced in my voice angered him and I loved it. I watched as he clenched his jaw, staring at me as his eyes darkened; walking up to me, soon towering over me making me realize how small I w...
MATTHEO RIDDLE IS YASMINE AMAROS. CALANTHA, ERISED, EPIPHANY, NICCOLÒ, KASSANDRA, LANA, VASILI, AND DAINN ARE MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK RO*LINGS.
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T R I G G E R W A R N I N G
NADA FOR ONCE
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─── ･ ｡ ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
F O R T Y T H R E E
"I ALREADY told you, he's not interested. He's made it very clear, I don't know what else you want me to--"
Lana rolled her eyes as she scoffed, turning her rosy cheek to me before turning back to my door. She stormed in unannounced, looking as if she'd rolled right out of bed. Her white sweatpants and blue crewneck seemed strange resting on her pale skin, having always seen her in a dress or skirt. I'd never seen her in these kinds of colors before, and much less in this kind of attire, so I hadn't meant to stare, but I'd caught myself before she did. Thankfully.
She ran her manicured fingers through her hair, "That's not why I'm here," she shut my door, shaking her head. My eyes followed her slender figure as she walked back and forth in front of me, not uttering a word. She was very anxious; something was bothering her.
"You mean you haven't come to remind me that you're blackmailing me? I'm surprised, truly." I crossed my arms, twisting my face into a frown as she began to pace faster between my and Kassandra's beds. "Listen, can you please stop. What else are you here for, then?"
She let out a loud, frustrated kind of noise, throwing her hands in front of her before leaning against my bed post, sighing deeply. I watched her from where I stood against my wall, only having the view of her side. Her usually straight hair was curled up at the ends, making her seem younger than she was, and the way she slouched against the wood post with her hips out seemed so unlike her.
This was an entirely different Lana Bassett.
She looked down, bringing her head with her, and closed her eyes. "I need your help."
My arms uncrossed themselves and I stared at her. Had I heard her right? There was no way she, of all people, needed help, much less from me. The idea of the two of us helping one another made me laugh, and not the kind that you can hide with the slight of your hand, but the kind where you're bent over with a hand on your stomach.
"Do you think that I'm joking?" she turned straight, her eyes calm and sad. When I looked up, I'd noticed that she was frowning, and her tone wasn't satire or crude, but very much somber. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't desperate, don't you understand that?"
