Diana Ramirez, a talented but softly-spoken artist, has shared nearly two years of her life with her boyfriend, Billy Hargrove. Their relationship, once a source of joy, has gradually cast shadows over her vibrant spirit.
In the midst of this dimmin...
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I've been hidin' my expressions You can't blame the reflections And the ripples on the ground I might as well have drowned
-Beabadoobee
✶✧❃✧ ✶
Thursday - October 15th, 1986
DIANA
"You're not an axe murderer or anything like that, right?" I asked, turning my body to face the long haired boy on the couch. His jaw dropped and held his hand to his chest, as if he was oh so offended.
"Me? An axe murderer? Never," he said, making a suggestive face as if it was the case. "Do I seem like one?"
"Kinda," I joked, squinting my eyes. "You did just beg me to stay. Either you're desperate for company or an axe murderer, because that doesn't happen very often."
"Wanting you to stay means that I'm desperate for company?"
"No, no...I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry." I said, mentally kicking myself. He shook his head, releasing a huff of laughter. "Diana, stop apologizing. You're fine. I'm not gonna...bark at you or anything like that. You don't need to worry."
"Sorry," I said, clasping my hand over my mouth, laughing quietly. He tilted his chin down a bit and raised his eyebrows, chuckling at my screw up. "Seriously though, I didn't mean it like that. I just-...I wouldn't imagine that you'd be friends with someone like me."
"Someone like you? What do you mean?"
"I don't know...you seem way more fun than I am," I replied, fiddling anxiously with my rings. It was true; I never felt like the most fascinating person. People often made comments like, "Do you ever talk?" or "You should smile more." But nothing was ever wrong. I just preferred to stay quiet and observe. That way, I had less of a chance of embarrassing myself. It seemed like I never knew what to say, or managed to steer conversations in the wrong direction.
"Well, for what it's worth, I think you're interesting. And I'm having fun talking to you right now," Eddie said, shifting around on the couch to face me directly. The corners of my mouth turned up into a smile, feeling warmed by the fact that he actually wanted to talk to me.
"Thanks, Eddie."
"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat quickly. There was a brief silence between us as I picked at my nails, unsure of how to continue the conversation from there.
