•Disconnectedᵐᶜᵈ

Chapter 6 - Nicole's POV

I stepped out of Dante's bathroom, wearing my clothes of a long-sleeved red dress that reached my mid-thighs. I felt very comfortable with myself in it, for the fact that it hid all my flaws and insecurities, especially my arms which withheld my scarring wrists.

I sat on the sofa and held my head in my head, stressing out over the fact I didn't know anything about this city and that I was living with a good friend who was killing me with his kindness and charm.

And to top all of that off, another one of my good friends was in critical condition in the hospital, unaware of what was going on in the world. She didn't even remember who I was...

"Nikkie?" Dante's voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up at the bluenette, who was watching me with concerned eyes. "Are you alright?"

I forced a small smile, "Yeah. Everything's fine." I left the couch, taking my bag from the kitchen counter, "Shall we?"

"Are you sure you want to wear long sleeves? It's very humid outside," he held his hand out, which I took.

I lost my smile, my mind spinning in various areas, "I-It'll be fine. It w-won't bother me..."

He dropped our hands, turning to me and taking my arm. I yanked it out of his grip, panicking.

"Nicole, let me see your arm," he said sincerely, and I could see the tears building up in his eyes.

This time, my numbness took over when he took my arm and rolled the sleeve of my dress up, and I let the silent tears fall as he inspected in horror upon the scars.

"Nicole," his voice cracked, devastating me even more, "W-Why?"

I choked on my words, unable to respond, instead, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tightly, needing the contact. I could feel his own tears fall into my hair, and my inaudible cries into his neck accompanied it.

I pulled away and rolled the sleeve down, stepping off towards the bathroom to fix my makeup. I avoided his eyes when I stepped out, simply saying, "I have a job interview to get to. Let's go."

We stayed silent during the walk, our arms linked together like a chain. When we stopped at the building, the entrance to a popular company for fashion and graphic design, I finally faced him.

I looked at him, telling myself not to cry. My hand rested on the side of his face, and I gazed into those eyes holding so much emotion. Without a word, I kissed his cheek and walked inside, forcing myself to not look back.

I'm sorry, Dante.