𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 - 𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐍

SOMEHOW IT DRAWS ME IN

should i put translations in this? 😭 i feel like y'all dk what she's saying LMFAO

when i woke up in the morning, i was alone in my bed, and i sat up, rubbing my face and looking around to see stokeley was gone too, and realized they were probably showering.

kaya sat on the floor, brushing her hair and looking into a mirror that was likely plastic and not glass. "good morning mrs. onfroy." she said, smiling.

that better not be jahseh's last fucking name.

"that's jahseh's last name." she clarified, turning to me. i shook my head, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"ew, no." i said, rolling my eyes and waving her off.

"yeah right, you weren't acting like that when you were all cuddled up with him a couple hours ago." she teased, raising an eyebrow.

"we were just sleeping, that's it," i said, rolling my eyes. "he has issues- i'd never be with him. and i don't want to, either. i'm not looking for anything." i said, truthfully, getting up out of bed.

"mhmmmm." she said, putting her brush and mirror away. "you're saying that now."

i shook my head, laughing. "eres loca, chica." (you're crazy) i said, as stokeley and jahseh came into the cell, fresh out the shower, and grabbed my towel and toothbrush, following kaya out to shower.

...

i sat with jahseh, on the floor beside his bed, while kaya and stokeley left to go out for recreation, and watched him write on a page full of words, which looked like a letter, but i couldn't really tell.

"chico, que tu haces?" (what're you doing?) i asked, tilting my head to read the paper.

he didn't look up, but spoke. "it's music i'm writing, i want to drop an album once i get out of here." he told me, continuing to write.

i nodded, skimming over some of the lyrics. they were really dark, and a lot of them were about depression and wanting to kill himself.

well then.

"this is really how you feel?" i asked, continuing to read over them, and he shrugged, but i could tell the answer was yes, he just didn't want to say that.

"que te pone triste?" (what makes you sad?) i asked taking hold of his hand and stopping him from writing.

he let go of the pencil, but jerked his hand away from me, though i kept calm, continuing to watch him.

he shrugged, looking away from me. "life. everything."

"i'll get it out of you, someday." i said, getting up and sitting on his bed. "what made you dye your hair como esto?" (like this) i asked, changing the subject.

he shook his head, smiling as he turned to face me. "i like to be different. what made you dye your hair como esto?" he mocked, playing with some of my dark red hair.

"i like to be different." i mocked, smiling and sticking my tongue out, he laughed, getting up and sitting beside me.

"you're not too bad, ya know. you was pissing a nigga off at first with that attitude, but you pretty cool." he said, ruffling my hair.

i smiled, looking at him. "you too, asshole. even though you're a bit crazy, i kinda like you." i said, ducking away from his touch on my head and fixing my hair.

he smirked, and i looked at the tattoo on his hand. "matter of fact, you're not even crazy. you just need some love." i said, tracing the letters to his 'kill me' tattoo.

he nodded beside me, watching me observe him closely. "why don't you hate me?" he asked, so low it was almost a whisper.

i paused. why don't i hate him?

he's a fucking weirdo, and i'm pretty sure he has actual severe mental illnesses as well, and he seems dangerous, i don't doubt he could be capable of murder, even murdering me.

yet, in the same sense, he's different. i can tell he doesn't want to be here, i can tell he isn't happy, and somehow it draws me in.

"why should i?" i countered, tilting my head and looking at him, watching him fiddle with his hands.

"it seemed like you wasn't fucking with a nigga at first," he said, shrugging. "you ain't really like me."

"i don't like anyone," i clarified, shrugging. "and yeah, you staring at me and being all scary didn't help. but i mean, look at us now. we tolerate each other, so it's okay."

"i scared you?" he asked, looking up at me, and i pressed my lips together, crossing my arms.

"is that the only thing you picked up on? and no, nobody scares me." i huffed, shaking my head.

"that's not true." he said, smirking, and i rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

"okay jahseh." i said, smirking as i began tracing the elephant on my hand, and i could feel him watching me, carefully. "what?"

he shook his head, smiling a bit, and broke the stare. "nothing. can i ask you something?"

"you just did." i said, and he shoved my arm.

"how'd you end up in here?" he asked, looking at me.

i let out a light laugh, shaking my head. "drug possession.. intent to distribute.. assault with a deadly weapon.. aggravated assault.. attempted murder.. possession of a firearm."

his eyes widened at me, and i got up from the bed. "yeah yeah, get scared of me now, whatever." i said, moving across the cell to my bed and laying down on it, staring up at nothing.

he was quiet for a moment, and stayed over on his bed, until he spoke up. "i'm not."

i tilted my head, looking at him with a straight face, and then went back to looking up at nothing. he came over to me, sitting by my legs. "i'm here for almost the same shit, actually worse." he confessed, and i looked at him.

"que hiciste?" (what'd you do?) i asked, laying on my side, but he shook his head, not looking at me.

"another time," was all he said, getting up and going back to the floor with his papers.

"i can't scare you away so soon."

~