ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ʀᴜʙᴀᴛᴏꜱɪꜱ

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【2.10】

10】

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(n.) the unsettling awareness of your heartbeat

♡♡♡

"Hey...Isa?" The heavy door cracked open to reveal (y/n) clad in her pajamas. She wasn't supposed to be near her friend, but decided to ignore Mother's stern orders. Isabella huffed at her arrival and swiveled her head around to face the wall again.

Isabella was sentenced to the entire night in timeout after injuring another kid. Hayes, an eleven-year-old, was messing with Leslie about how unathletic he was compared to himself. It was just before dinner, when all of the other kids were already eating. Leslie had to take his time down the stairs because he was recovering from a sprained ankle. Apparently, Isabella was looking for him, and heard Hayes teasing him. She shoved him down the stairs and Hayes ended up hurting his wrist.

Mother was extremely upset, announcing to Isabella that Hayes would've been adopted that night, but couldn't after his injury because he needed to recover. It was the first time anybody had heard Mother raise her voice. Still angry, Isabella took the punishment and stormed up the stairs, locking herself in her room.

"I brought you food. Leslie and I wanted you to have some." (y/n) says. She leaves the plate on Isabella's nightstand and backs up, keeping her distance.

"Hayes is a rotten child. He doesn't deserve to be adopted." Isabella spoke bitterly. Anger still laced her tongue.

"That's a little dramatic." And ironic. (y/n) attempted to lighten the mood, but realized she failed when Isabella didn't respond and completely ignored her food. For a while, (y/n) just hung out in Isabella's room, waiting for her to eventually say something. She had tried bribing her with everything: promising Isabella more dinner, sleepovers, desserts. Isabella wouldn't budge. It was times like this when her stubbornness wasn't as endearing.

Bored out of her mind, (y/n) picked up a book off of Isabella's desk and flipped to the page with a folded corner. She fell onto Isabella's bed, and started to read out loud. She read for ten, maybe twenty, minutes before the tension finally left Isabella. She had laid next to (y/n) to hear the story better, and eventually passed out on her shoulder.

(y/n) knew that if she drifted off, she'd receive an earful from Mother in the morning. Despite that, extra chores and some yelling didn't seem that bad as long as she could spend the night with her friend. She drifted off peacefully, resting her head on Isabella's. The only thought crossing her mind was if she'd wake up as happy as she was then.


‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊


I can smell food when I come to, and at first wonder if I was at my parent's place. Think again. I chide myself. The food smells too burnt to be anything of theirs, and I can't hear my mother's pleasant chatter, or my father's subtle responses. My body aches all over, especially in my legs. I don't want to move, and I don't think I can. I wish they were here to coddle me.

ꜱʟɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ┃ɪꜱᴀʙᴇʟʟᴀWhere stories live. Discover now