••●••
VIKA DOESN'T GET scared. She can get hurt, evidently, but she never gets scared.
But confused isolation? That's the closest she'll get. And that's exactly what's going on right now, as we're left alone, a movie playing - and zero food because I thought Sasha was coming back with KFC like she texted, but isn't here.
So I'm hungry. Vika's moody. And our friend is dead. So I'm also angry. Hangry if you will.
"Frankie is like the most boring character out of all them I don't understand how she's the favourite." Vika mutters, speaking for the first time since Sasha left with Elliot.
"I mean I only liked the series for Clawdeen." I shrug.
"She's a lesbian right?"
"I heard the creator is cool with that idea, but I'm not sure." I nod.
"Mm." She hums, playing with the strings on her hoodie as the movie continues to play. But something makes me think that the movie is long forgotten.
"I don't think I've ever seen you that scared before." Vika says out of the blue.
"What?" I face her.
"When I was on the table, you looked like you were about to lose it." She elaborates.
"Well I care about you." I mutter, turning away to hide the heat in my cheeks.
"I didn't know that much."
Okay she didn't have to embarrass me, Jesus Christ.
"Fine, next time I'll walk away." I huff.
Vika chuckles, "I didn't mean it like that."
I would continue arguing with her but she laughed. She laughed. And Vika has laughed three times in my presence. Once when Keagen tripped down the stairs. Once when Otis from Team Y pronounced specific; pacific, and the last time when Sasha went feral on all of us in Monopoly. Like fully evil. Opposite of how she usually is. Stealing all the property.
"What did you mean it like?" I ask.
"I dunno," She shrugs, "I guess we're friends."
"I've always thought of us as friends." I frown.
Vika turns to make eye contact with me, "Yeah but....that was always like...I don't know; arranged. We share a room, we work with each other, we see each other every day. Now it doesn't feel so forced."
"You felt it was forced before?" I ask a little sadly. Because with her it never was.
She shrugs again, "I don't know what you and Sasha see in me. I'm kind of an asshole."
I gasp, "You're not an asshole!"
She raises a brow.
"Okay you are, but it's like cool. Cunty, yknow?" I admit.
YOU ARE READING
Belladonna
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