mad (5. and 24.)

8 1 4
                                    

"kitty, i'm sorry," corbyn apologizes, "please, please, please talk to me."

words swarmed my mind, but i stayed silent and kept my expression blank.

"why should i say anything." i whisper.

"well. yell, scream, say something. anything." he pleads.

"fine. you want me to say something? i will." i growl.

"i can't believe you would prank me that bad. made me think you died? really? you know i'm so, SO fucking fragile, my heart can't take that. so why would you think it would be okay to fake your own death? and even have my best friend play along?" i shout, my hands balling into white-knuckled fists.

corbyn looked surprised i suddenly let loose like that. i take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

"you look so fucking hot when you're mad." he whispers, smirking.

i narrow my eyes and growl.

"not the time, besson." i say.

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