Aug 10, 2016
“What’re you staring at? It’s called reading.”
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“What’re you staring at? It’s called reading.”
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“Oh my goodness I’m so sorry. I swear that wasn’t what I was trying to do.”
“I honestly really really tried to pay attention.” Ash admitted, though most definitely not as genuinely as it sounded, “then I actually listened, and realized that I am most definitely not the right person for you to be talking to right now. Consider this a favor.” A smug grin grew on his features, knowing full well that favors were never granted without further payment later.
Ivy had been going around in circles. His mind raced with everything that had happened this week -- and her eyes hur from the crying. She couldn’t hardly stand on her two feet without wanting to fall over. She was tired, exhausted. Laying onto one of the couches in one of the dorm rooms. She tucked her feet under herself. She closed her eyes for a few moments -- which she thought had been just that, a few minutes. Before she woke up, heavy breathing and a low scream coming from her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever sleep again.
“Anyone want to fill me in what I missed for the past couple of days -- or no?”
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Coming here had been a bad idea. All of it. They should of stayed home -- they should of just missed the entire school reunion entirely. None of this would of happened. He wouldn't of fucked up his family, and messed everything up. He wouldn't have gone to the bonfire, and answered that text.. and had gone along with everything. He wouldn't off been stuck in the back of a random van, while Athena had been -- and there it was. He couldn't even say it. He couldn't even say it out loud, or even think it. His entire mind would blank, and he would feel this tightening his chest, the guilt.. and it would claw at him from the inside out. Muttering a couple curse words under his breath, he ran his hand through his hair, as he sunk into the corner of his dorm room. It was a mess, hardly unrecognizable. Instead of talking, he had let his anger get the best of him. The door open, because he didn't care who came in, who saw it, or head him. He deserved it, he deserved to feel the guilt. Every single last bit of it, because it was his fault.
“I’m going to get you— just hold on.”
“What?” Autumn asked, eyebrows raised as she held a plate of food out. “C’mon, try it. It’s an old family recipe. It’s really good... just trust me.”