Chapter 15: Eli

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A/N: 30.04.20

What's your most used emoji?
Mine are: 😂🥺😍💞💫

And recently 🍒 (for those of you read WLTVO will understand ;))

⤵️⤵️⤵️

*Eli's pov*

Thomas left my house and I plopped onto my bed, digging my face against my velvet pillow, angry and upset. I knew that I shouldn't have been so cold with him, but my disappointment got the better of me and I ended up acting... Snobby.

I groaned into the soft fabric, kicking my feet in frustration. Ever since I met Thomas, I started realizing things about myself that I didn't acknowledge until now. No one's ever called me snobby before, never to my face anyway. People showered me with compliments, told me that I was pretty and that I dressed well, admired everything I had, and even envied me.

So why was Thomas so different?

He looked at me like he'd look at everyone else as if I was a simple commoner. He didn't put me on a pedestal because of my wealth or social status.

For some reason, I felt relieved and annoyed. Relieved, because I've finally met someone who was honest enough to tell me what others wouldn't; annoyed because the truth hurt my pride and ego.

But most of all, I was worried. Questions started popping in my head: why did I follow Thomas to his house when I could have asked him to bring it to school? Why did I ask about his family and felt sad for him when he told me about his parents? Why did I admire him for how strong and independent he was despite his hard life? Why did I help him get a better job?

In fact, my dad wasn't looking for any extra workers. I had to beg him to get Thomas a job, waiting until dinner after his second cup of wine, when he was in a good mood and when I was sure he'd say 'yes'.

What confused me, even more, was that I didn't do it because I wanted something from Thomas. He couldn't possibly have anything that I didn't, yet, I wanted to help him. And it wasn't out of pity.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling, feeling my heart race inside my chest.

I helped him because I wanted Thomas to be happy; because someone like him deserved a better life than what he was given. That was it.

I sat up with furrowed brows. Wait, I'm not following for that filthy rat, am I? Impossible, no way. He's filthy and poor, and there's nothing elegant about him. He's not my type and he wouldn't be able to spoil me with expensive clothes and gifts. Besides, I like Steven.

My shoulders suddenly felt heavy and I pulled my knees to my chest, tightly wrapping my arms around them for comfort. Then why did I feel so disappointed when he said he couldn't watch a movie with me? I know I overreacted, but why did I overreact? Why did I even ask him to spend time with me? And why, oh why, can't I stop thinking about bright, silly smile?!

I then remembered watching him undress in the bathroom, peeking through the small crack between the door and its frame. Thomas had a tanned body, probably from an outdoor summer job. It was a natural skin tone, not the tanning lotion the girls at school used when they went to the beach.

Apart from his gorgeous body, what caught my attention the most was the scars scattered over his torso. There was one that stretched down his shoulder blade, a couple on his biceps, and one near his waist.

Where did he even get those? They didn't look like something you'd get during a part-time job.

I then remembered how Thomas mentioned fashion and felt my chest quench. No one has ever guessed my taste for fashion, not even Steven. Thomas was the only one who knew, and I wasn't even the one who told him first. He knew because he paid attention.

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