GLORY / SPITE.

of course they’re still mad.

vy brawls with the urge to groan when she inserts herself directly in front of them. with a thinly veiled discomfort, they shift their helmet about so that it now rested squat against the crook of their elbow.

“ yeah, well. you bring out the worst in people, ” they spit, the prior flatness of their tone fully dissolved. violet eyes narrow even further as they scrutinize her—bright and beaming and bullshittingly beautiful in all of her selfish glory. 

whatever. they didn’t have time for this. with but a shake of a head, vy relents onward, roughly shoving past her as they continue to trek somewhere far, far away.

komal rolls her eyes as they breeze past her, but she refused to give up. she doesn’t get curved. she does the curving.

this time instead of blocking them, she matches their pace. for the umpteenth time in her college career, she’s thankful that she did track and field otherwise vy would be impossible to keep up with. ‘ look, i know what i did sucked, like, majorly sucked, but keeping in contact with people has always been whatever to me. besides... ’ she tries to stop them in their tracks by setting a light hand on their shoulder. ‘ you were the best i ever had. ’ komal’s smirk becomes more coy. 

“ on second thought, i was actually just leaving— ” in a blink, vy has forced themselves onto both feet, backpack and motorcycle helmet in tow. they dare their narrowed eyes to remain steady—their other facial features to remain mild—upon addressing the other. she’s not going to get the best of them. not a second time.

lifting a foot, vy brusquely kicks their chair aside before turning a heel.  “ —it’s too goddamn muggy in here all of a sudden. i’m sure you get it. ” then, bidding her a mock salute, they add, “ see you never, komal. ”

@hateflare​ .

‘ aw! don’t tell me you’re still mad! ’ komal doesn’t care that vy’s already trying to walk away. she shamelessly trails them, forcing herself right in front of them so they can’t get away from her.