Chapter 19

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The day was almost coming to an end, rainfall hitting the ground to produce a lovely smell of Earth. It was raining, yet the air carried a certain heat. A nervous Riley stood at the door of Layla McKenzie's bedroom, her heart beating frantically. It had been over two minutes since she knocked on the door but no reply came. Taking in a deep breath, she let herself in.

Layla was on her bed, hidden beneath a blanket. She didn't move when the door open, or when Riley walked closer to her, closing the door behind her. Riley stood next to the bed, seeing how all of the latter's body was completely hidden under the blanket. She could see shivering and hear quiet sniffs, and her heart ached.

With a small sigh, she took off her dress shoes, leaving her socks on before slowly getting on the bed behind her girlfriend, who stiffened but only for a second.

She slowly pulls down the blanket, being cautious so as to not stuttle her lover. That's when she sees the tears. Layla sniffs, but keeps her eyes closed. Her arms hug her knees against her chest.

"Hey, can you look at me?" Riley whispers, and she really hopes it works. But Layla doesn't move.

"Please?"

A beat.

Slowly, Layla opens her eyes and turns around with a small sniff then pushes herself up to sit with her back against a pillow. She doesn't look at her lover though. She tugs her knees to her chest and hugs them close, her head resting on them.

A small frown forms on Riley's face.

"You're crying," she says, as if saying the words outloud will wipe away the offending tears staining her lover's beautiful face.

"Are you sad? Angry?" She asks, and really she has no idea how to get her girlfriend to talk to her. Or to atleast stop crying. Panic sets in and it makes her unable to think of ways to help.

Layla lets out a soft chuckle, moving her head from her knees to wipe her tears away, sniffing. She eyes her lover, a small smile on her lips.

"You're really getting bad at this," she comments in a low voice and Riley can't fight back her smile. Because it is not what she says that has her lover currently crawling into her arms, but the mere presence of her that came almost immediately after she walked out on them.

"How are you feeling mama?" Riley asks, this time her voice is low and calm as she holds her lover in her arms. Layla, with her head resting on the latter's chest and her body trapped between her legs, closes her eyes.

"Angry," she says quietly, and if Riley wasn't so close to, she might have missed it.

"At me?" She asks, a kind of sadness glassing her eyes. Because her girlfriend is crying again, and it makes her want to cry as well. Like two birds that fly together in a clear sky. When one goes left, the other must follow. Always. Because they are in sync. Connected.

"At your father," Layla says, and with the words comes her hand fisting on the side of Riley's shirt, holding it so tight that it wrinkles between her fingers. Riley doesn't mind though. Because the wheels of her mind are running but the darn thing refuses to work well.

"Baby, you've got me confused here. Think you could maybe explain this to me in simpler terms?" She asks slowly and quietly in a soothing voice, like one would do to an abused child to get them to say what has been done to them outloud.

Layla let's out an exaggerated breath then. As if it should be obvious to her lover why she's angry. Because the writing on the wall is not written in a foreign language that she should not understand, she believes. She considers moving away from the warm hold but Riley tightens the hold of her arms and rests her chin on her lover's head as if already suspecting what she is thinking. Because of course Riley can read her mind. But she cannot read the reason behind her anger and that sends a bad taste to her tongue.

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