𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 | 𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔰 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡

𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚡 : 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

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Margo's POV

How many times did I tell myself not to get caught up in my feelings? Not to get carried away? More than I'd like to admit. Weeks had gone by. We hadn't spoken. I hadn't spoken to anyone really. Not my family, not my friends, not my teachers. I focused on what I had to do. I pushed through. When I'd found out, it felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. The next morning I'd felt like I'd just woken up from being drugged. It almost didn't feel real. When I looked at the text messages though, I immediately remembered the details of what had happened. After that, whenever I would see Miles, he looked like he was doing just fine, like there wasn't even a trace of remorse. He never once tried speaking to me. He was going on with his life like normal. I had the strong urge to try doing something that would've grabbed his attention. As badly as I wanted to though, I knew that I shouldn't have wanted to. After all, he hurt me and it wasn't right. I shouldn't have wanted his attention.

Miles' POV

I knew she didn't want to speak to me. Why would she? That didn't mean I didn't sneak a glance at her every opportunity I could. Life wasn't the same without her in it. I didn't know what she did to me but I knew that whenever I was around her, I felt different. I didn't like it at first, didn't want to admit it, but when I came to terms with the truth, that was all I wanted to focus on. Her and how she made me feel. I hadn't been eating as much in the weeks away from Margo. It wasn't that I was choosing not to, I just wasn't hungry. I'd gone over to their house twice since, but with no luck. When I would ring the doorbell, the following would happen:

The door opened, Natalia greeting me.
"Oh, Miles! It's good to see you again."

"It's nice to see you too, Natalia."
I said, smiling slightly.
"Uh, is Margo here?"

"Margo? She's not really feeling that well."

"Oh. Is she okay?"

"She hasn't bothered to come out of her room much. That girl worries me. She hasn't said much to us, but maybe seeing you will cheer her up? I'm sure she misses you."
I could tell by the look written on her face that this wasn't just some excuse. She genuinely hadn't been feeling like herself. I could tell something was off. The atmosphere of the house, just from the front door alone, it felt different.

"Oh, no. That's okay, I'll come around some other time."

"Alright then, I'll let her know that you stopped by. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I'm trying to."

That was the first time. The second time, it went like this:

Again, Natalia greeted me at the door.

"Is she feeling any better?"
I'd asked, hopeful, but careful not to get my hopes too high.

She shook her head but let me in anyway. She'd offered me something to drink and we sat in the living room talking for a bit. I'd been there fifteen minutes when I heard a voice call from the top of the stairs.

"Mom?"
It was Margo. The sound of her voice made me automatically feel less heavy. As the thuds on the stairs grew louder, nearing closer, I sat up straighter, rubbing my legs, anxiously. She made it to the bottom of the stairs and looked over at the living room. She looked at me. When we made eye contact all I wanted to do was walk over to her and apologize and hug her and see if she was okay.
"Oh." She'd said. She sounded disappointed.