🔱 BROKEN 🔱
A feeling of hopelessness, loneliness and despair. A feeling that leaves a person empty, blank and stone cold because of it. Usually accompanied by a lack of self worth.
Cause: Trauma, depression or loss of a loved one. Sometimes all of...
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《Blake Aesthetic Above》
"You're...what?" Ashley stuttered, pausing on her step as she slowly turned to Brock.
He had a wide, mischievous grin on his face and Ashley immediately let out and annoyed huff.
"God, Brock. What is wrong with you?" She scolded, smacking him as hard as she could on his shoulder.
He threw his head back and erupted into a full blown laugh. Ashley scowled and attempted to walk faster and get away from him, but being the big guy he was, he was still able to keep up with her. Her cheeks burned hard, but she refused to accept it and scowled, keeping her eyes ahead at the ever empty Elite hallway.
"You looked so scared." Brock said, in between laughs.
Ashley shook her head at him, but a smile managed to slip and sneak its way across her lips, "I hate you."
Brock snickered and sobered up, "But you know you is?" He asked, his face suddenly serious. He had a dark look in his sharp dark brown eyes; enough to perk Ashley's interest,
"Who? What?" She asked, leaning in to hear what he would say.
A part of her hoped that he would. A really, really big part of her wanted Brock to reveal who it was, and say that it was who she was hoping to be. But Brock—he had another evil, evil plan in mind. So evil that Ashley wanted to kill him right after he said it. He looked at her dead in her eyes, the expression on his face meaning business. Ashley was aching with anticipation. His full lips parted and he finally revealed who it was that was falling in love with her,
"No one." Brock announced, waving his palms in a circle for effect in front of his chest.
There was silence. Ashley processed what had just happened, and slowly yet dangerously lifted her gaze from his palms to his eyes. She bit her tongue and took in a deep breath,
"One—."
"One what?"
"Two—."
"You're counting, why are you counting?" Brock wondered, slowly backing away from her.
Ashley put her phone that had been in her clenched left hand in her pocket, her face dangerously blank. She squared her shoulders and dropped to the ground in a—get set—type of position.
"Shit. Fuck, wait, I—." Brock begun, developing into a backwards jog with his palms up in front of him; a look of terror and uncertainty painted on his face.
"Three." Ashley said, as calmly as she could.
Brock let out a very unexpected high pitched scream and bolted fast towards the exit. Ashley raced fast after him, gaining on him as he continued shrieking and laughing at the same time. Despite the small smile on Ashley's own face, her goal still remained true.
