A year has passed. A year of heartbreak and healing for Livia. A year from Colby.
What happens when Corey shows up out of the blue and asks her something that'll pull her back into their lives? Will she accept, or put that life behind her and focus...
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~13~ Warning: violence and gore
"You would think he'd be no punctual, under the circumstances," Lucas said into my ear, the comm tickling my ear just a little bit to where I adjusted it. My eyes locked on the door, and my hope for this meeting was sinking more and more the longer I waited for a head of dirty blonde hair to enter the restaurant. But I was left sitting on the edge of my seat, an empty basket in front of me where bread once sat.
"I've already eaten the appetizers." I sighed, relaxing and pushing the basket away from me. Discreetly pushing some crumbs off the table.
"You reckon he'll show up?" He asked, annoyance clear in his accent thick tone. I was just as impatient though, frustrated you could say, so I was a bit snippy too.
"He better." I glanced over towards the mirror facing me a few meters away where I could see Lucas's reflection looking at me through his tussled hair. He had a drink in his hand, seeming to be a lonely man taking advantage of a nice bar. But with this mirror, I had a clear view of him, and he had one of me and Sam. that wouldn't matter though if Sam doesn't even show up though.
I was dressed in my finest. Black dress, sleeves falling off my shoulders like that of a princess dress, jewelry made up of pearls, (because even though diamonds are a girl's best friend, Pearls are her soulmate), and my hair straightened and falling off my left shoulder. I suppose I was a bit dressed up. But I didn't care because I knew it only meant that if Sam wasn't as done up as me it only mean he was underdressed. Besides, I preferred to be presentable under any circumstance. It tells other people you are confident, and today I was. I had to be.
Sam was to meet me here 20 minutes ago. But I still sit here, alone, bloated from bread and frustrated.
You would think Sam would be here early, seeing as we've just reconnected after a not very good departure. You would think he'd care enough to be at least on time if not early. It pissed me off that he was running late, and even more so at the possibility that he's not showing up.
"Should we just go?" I asked finally after the waiter approached my table carefully and told me that if I wasn't going to order something then I should give up my table to the people who were waiting. I kindly told her through gritted teeth that he would be here.
And assuming that I was here to meet someone on a date, I would say it was sympathy that led her away from me with an understanding.
"5 more minutes. If he doesn't show then we'll just come up with another plan." Lucas sighed, setting down his drink and leaning back in his bar stool. I could see him about ready to wave down the bartender to close his tab, running his hand through his hair and relaxing his stressed jaw. But he didn't wave him down, instead, the entrance door opened and all of my anxiety flew away when Sam entered the room at last.
