CHAPTER TWELVE

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† 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: cursing

𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞: 𝐌𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫


     The morning sun nipped his cheeks red. He exhaled as he put down his bags, placing both his hands on his hips and popping his back upward. Francisco scanned the busy market, trying to discern a path to take. 

     "Francisco L/N, right?" He spun around at the gravelly voice and came face to face with fish being held in front of his face, their lips centimeters apart. The holder was a middle-aged man with a potbelly and a balding scalp. He had a scowl on his face, his forehead glistening with sweat. If he remembered correctly; this was Emiliano García. 

     Francisco reluctantly guided the gaping fish down, giving the fuming man a quizzical look, "Yes?" He asked. Emiliano bared his teeth, crinkling his nose in distaste, "Control your daughter." Like that was happening— Francisco rolled his eyes. 

     He was ready to push against Emiliano but the stubborn man blocked his exit with arms firmly crossed, "She tormented me and I've heard that she even made a kid cry, and boy, Chico is a tough nut to crack." He jabbed his stubby pointer finger at Francisco's rib. "She's been hanging out with that Camilo Madrigal." He spat, his tone laced with venom. "And take it from someone who had seen that boy grew up, he's up to no good."

     Emiliano left with his chin raised to the sky, putting the fish where his groceries were like he was sheathing his sword. Francisco was left dumbstruck; Y/N had always been a shy flower, rarely blooming in the presence of others. Yet somehow, she had immensely changed since they moved to Colombia. She wasn't as devoted and now she's apparently acting up.

    He turned scarlet in shame, they hadn't settled in this place for long and she's already causing troubles to the locals. To make a kid cry? He raised her better than this. He grabbed his groceries, marching his way home. His stormy mood could rival Pepa's thunderstorms. His feet struck the earth as he stomped and everyone he passed by would part before him.

     He swung the door open, making his way to the kitchen and placing the vegetables on the table. He inhaled sharply, mouth wide open, "Y/N L/N!" His yell shook the whole house. Her full name— every child knew they messed up when they hear this.

     The sound of her feet padded on the wooden floor; she stumbled her way down the stairs, her eyelashes crusty from sleep. Francisco aggressively pulled the groceries out of their bags and onto their respective places in the cabinets. She stared, she doesn't know whether to approach the brooding man or not. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, is this a hallucination? After all, her father had been silent about his anger for days now.

     Fuck this, she's going back to sleep— His shoulders shook as he laughed dryly, effectively stopping her from taking another step, "Do you know how it feels," He looked at her over his shoulder. "To learn that my daughter was doing god knows what while I stay here, trying to do my best keeping my wife," He paused before continuing, "Trying to keep her mother alive?"

      Mother? What a cruel joke. She gripped on her dress, biting back her words as she took all his blows in. "Honestly, Y/N, what has gotten into you?" He exclaimed in exasperation, raising his hands and dropping them on the table with a thud. First, he wanted her to go out more and now that she did, he didn't like that? She doesn't know what he wanted from her. She was finally letting people in her bubble, after all, her life back in the Philippines wasn't all cupcakes and rainbows. Everyone shunned her for her looks, her shaved head, and her former friends would laugh at her lack of suitors.

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