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The sun set on my future as I stare at the bags fully packed on my bed. Beside them, the woman I call my mother, face blank save for the anger I can feel radiate off her. I want to apologize, plead with her, try to save face despite the very obvious issue.
She looks me up and down, glare dripping with venom and in this moment, I feel my entire world shatter.
My mother who's tried to knock sense into me since day one.
I'm the one at fault and I'd accepted that, but I'd hoped for mercy at the very least.
The very least ...
"You're my greatest disappointment." She'd said and I believed her. "You are stupid and naïve." I believed her. "You wouldn't know the first thing about adulthood — you're seventeen years old and look at you now."
She was right. I don't know what to do with myself six years later.
"I don't want you in my house."
I was timid, too scared to fight for a chance — especially at her venomous words. I should have fought for a chance, an opportunity to prove myself as more than the stupid seventeen year old who chose temporary happiness by way of a permanent problem over her family.
Instead, I took those bags and didn't look back. I had no reason to. And now here I am — sleeplessly staring out over the city of New York with a mug of fresh tea in my grasp and a newfound interest for lingering in silence and giving way to my intrusive thoughts.
My eyes scan the open app on my phone, though I try to ebb my tears away. It's what I was hoping would never happen for as long as possible but ... it's happening.
The words replay in my head — Matthew "Ghost" Reid who was arrested in a FBI issued drug bust is released from prison on good behavior.
Good behavior ...
I purse my lips as I stare down at my fingers, battered and bruised and holding years of memories. Memories that shouldn't even exist.
I'm safe. I tell myself. I took all the precautions to make sure I'm safe. To make sure that we're safe.
Before I can linger in my own sadness for a minute longer, a knock at my door snaps me from my thoughts and forces me to finally look at the time on my phone. 2:32 AM. The bright lights and buzzing life on the streets of New York could've fooled me.
With a small sigh, I make my way to my door, knowing exactly who's behind it. It's been a couple of days since I got my locks fixed and since Luca has started making his appearance at all hours of the night.
It wasn't a daily thing but when it happened, we usually just sit in silence — sometimes with a TV show on as background noise. I'd fall asleep on the couch and by the time I'm awake, he's gone and a blanket is over me. The TV would be off and my door would be locked. Luca would be nowhere to be found though.
Words were rare whenever we sat together which was to be expected considering we're still finding our way around each other. Even now, it feels like silent company is the best remedy.
I take a quick look through the peephole before turning the lock and pulling my door open. Luca's head is bowed as it rests against the door jamb. My head tilts in surprise — he's usually wide awake and staring right at me.
"Hey." I greet, my volume low and voice raspy from my sobs that filled my room just moments ago.
He looks up, eyes red and hooded and if not for the stench of marijuana and alcohol on him, those would've been the main indicators that he's high off his ass. Let's not forget drunk.
When he finally speaks after staring so deeply into my soul, his voice mirrors mine — cracked and riddled with sadness. "Hi."
Stepping aside, I allow him to walk in and head straight to my kitchen where he grabs all sorts of snacks from the cabinet though he moves slowly.
I close the door behind him and watch quietly as he pulls the wrapper off a strawberry pop tart and bites it. I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I watch him without shame.
"Where are you coming from?" I ask.
He shrugs, "Some club — think it's called Ecstasy or something corny like that."
"That's across town, Luca. Did you drive like this?" He shakes his head but doesn't elaborate. "Luca, how did you get here?"
"I walked." He says blankly.
My eyes widen, "Luca —"
"Can you stop saying my name, please?" He cuts me off, eyes cutting into mine. Though I'm a couple of feet away from him, it shocks me when I push myself to step closer to him. I'm no stranger to this tone of voice — the patronizing tone of a man.
"Don't tell me what to do, Luca." The lower half of his body shifts slightly as he looks away, closing his hooded eyes in response. Oh. Of course, I know what being high does to the body so I step up to him as close as possible and grip his chin gently so he can look at me. When he opens his eyes and stares down at me, his gaze darkens and he licks his lips, "You need to take a cold shower and go to sleep."
I step away and head to my sectioned off bedroom in order to find him some clothes, "You can take the bed."
As I shuffle through my things and come out victorious with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, both bigger than me and big enough for him, I turn only to have my breath taken from me in shock.
Luca stands so close that I can feel his bulge against my thigh, his pierced nose is inches from mine, I can see the minute scars littered all over his face, the freckles that span his cheeks.
"You've been crying." It wasn't a question but he says nothing else on that matter. He leans in closer and just when I think he'll give into his urges, he takes the clothes from my grasp and hums deeply, "I'll take the couch."
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luca a lil horny freaky fuck 😏
what do y'all think about the flashback and the news article that has remi worrying?
