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This Piece of You (A Saugust One-shot)
Iâll take this piece of youÂ
And hold for all eternityÂ
For just one second I felt wholeÂ
As you flew right through meÂ
Sorrow â Flyleaf
Eyes on the couple in the corner, August watched her from behind the bar as he idly wiped the counter. The rag in his hand did little to clean the scarred wooden surface since the filthy scrap of cloth was dirtier than it by far, but his lazy swipes were more an attempt at busywork than actual washing.
Although they were too far away for him to hear what was being said, he could read her body language, and he recognized the tricks in her arsenal with an irked familiarity. Sheâd started off flirtatious to soften up the man across from her, coyly teasing with a subtle brush of a finger against his, a smile paired with the coquettish tip of her head, batting long pretty lashes over those fathomless green eyes. But as the negotiation furthered, the act shifted from demure to dogged, her expression hardening as she sat up straighter and kept her hands on her side of the square plank of a table. Clearly their conversation was getting serious.Â
âIâll have ânother," Rocco said, drawing Augustâs attention momentarily to the sop perched with his elbows on the bar. âThat is if you can spare a minute to reel your eyes back into your head, old boy.âÂ
August grunted in reply, pulling a bottle from under the counter and tipping it into Roccoâs tumbler. Amber liquid splashed out, turning the dingy grey of the empty glass a foggy honey.Â
âMust be some sight to be pulling your focus like that,â Rocco grinned widely, pink gums shining wetly as his blackout goggles shifted with the movement of his round cheeks. âWho is she?â
âNobody,â August muttered gruffly. Having given up a long time ago on making sense of how the old man could be so perceptive despite his blindness, he didn't bother asking the drunk how he knew it was a woman that had arrested Augustâs attention. âJust somebody I used to know.â
âAh, a ghost from the past, eh?âÂ
âSomething like that.â Making an effort to concentrate, he shifted his piercing blue gaze to Rocco. âWhatâs it to you, old boy?â
âOh, nothing, nothing. No reason at all.â Rocco picked up his glass and took a dainty sip of the watery contents. âJust find it interesting that sheâs driving such a hard bargain when heâs got that gun trained on her so diligently. Sheâs either very brave or incredibly stupid. Either way, she sounds just like your type.âÂ
Rocco let out a hoarse laugh, a rusty saw slicing through the relative hush of the bar. Augustâs attention snapped to the man seated opposite Sasha, eyes narrowing as he tried to spot the weapon Rocco had picked up on.Â
Sure enough, a gray metal barrel poked out of the meaty fist balled on his thigh, hidden in the shadows under the table.Â
August was rounding the bar before he even realized heâd moved. Behind him, he heard Rocco make a crack about knights in shining armor.Â
âIf you think youâre gonna be able to get any stock off-world at that price, youâre better off selling whatever it is youâve been smoking lately,â Sasha was saying to her companion. Leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed, the chill in her imperious gaze could have formed ice crystals on the abandoned bottles between them.Â
âListen here, you little biââÂ
Augustâs hand met the strangerâs shoulder with a loud thud, knocking the manâs balance off as well as his words.Â
âItâs time for you to leave.â Augustâs tone invited no argument.Â
He barely acknowledged the mute shock in Sashaâs gaze, his focus intent on the scum bag still seated in his bar.Â
âWhat the hell, pal? Canât you see weâre in the middle of something here,â the man protested, turning his head to look up at August. His bulbous, veiny nose looked like it had been broken a time or two before and August was tempted to see how many slams against the table it would take to turn it into paste.Â
âI said itâs time to go,â August growled, tightening his grip on the manâs sloped shoulder. âBarâs closing.âÂ
âFunny, I donât remember hearing the shout for last call.â The stranger stared at August challengingly, his thin lips pressed into a hard line. âAnd what kind of bar closes this early anyhow?â
Augustâs body tensed, muscles flexing as his mind blanked in preparation for a fight. He was about to make good on the idea of squashing this assholeâs fat, red nose like an overripe tomato when Rocco appeared on the other side of the man.Â
Plucking at the strangerâs sleeve, he said, âCâmon, old boy. Help a blind fool find the door and Iâll buy you a drink elsewheres. I know a place nearby thatâs open late. The servers might be just as mean, but they arenât nearly as ugly, or so Iâm told.â
His grating scratch of a laugh cleaved through the growing tension, effectively diffusing it.Â
âFine, whatever,â the stranger muttered as he twisted Augustâs heavy hand from his shoulder and stood. Small angry eyes flicked towards Sasha and he spit out, âAnd fuck you very much too.âÂ
As soon as the door creaked shut behind the two men, the loud slam of Sashaâs twin fists on the table followed.Â
âWhat the hell, August?âÂ
He didnât reply, just turned on his heel and stomped away.Â
âYou do realize you just cost me a huge pay day, right?â she yelled after him, quickly gaining her own feet. âAre you going to explain yourself?â
He just grunted, frustration hiking his shoulders to his ears as he kept his back to her. Adrenaline riding high in his body, his hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white with the effort to hold his temper.
âYou heard me,â he said. âIâm shutting down early.âÂ
âGood luck with that, because Iâm not leaving until you tell me what that was all about.â
He spared her a sidelong glance over his shoulder. As expected, everything about her screamed defiance, from the tip of her chin to the cock of her hip.
âAsshole had a gun,â he finally muttered. âUnder the table.â
She let out an incredulous snort. âThatâs it? August, this is Pandora. Everyone has a gun.âÂ
âHe had it aimed at you while you were sitting there egging him on,â he sneered. âWhat was I supposed to do, just let him shoot you for mouthinâ off?â
Venting a long-suffering sigh, he could almost hear the roll of her eyes to the ceiling.
âDid it ever occur to you that I might have a shield in my pocket meant for just such an occasion?â Although her forethought in the matter did come as a surprise to him, she continued, the question rhetorical, âObviously, this isnât my first rodeo. Iâve been meeting creeps like that for a while now. Itâs the cost of doing business.â
âYeah, well, maybe you need to get into a different business.âÂ
A bark of a laugh burst from her, humorless and angry. âWow, okay. You know, when I asked to arrange meet-ups here, I didnât realize the crappy beer on tap came with free life advice and a belligerent bodyguard.â
âWhy are you meeting people here?â he questioned, whirling around to face her.Â
To her credit, she didnât back up when he stalked closer, eager to hear the explanation for the mystery that had been baffling him.Â
âWhat? What do you mean? This is a bar, right? Liquor usually makes people more willing to negotiate. That is when they arenât getting chased out by the owner. Is that why this place is so empty? Because if thatâs some new business strategy, you might want to rethink it.âÂ
âYou know exactly what I mean. Why this place specifically? I donât hear from you for months, and then all of sudden, here you are,â he flicked his hand at her, the gesture meant to encompass not only her presence in his bar but also in his life, âout of the blue, looking to run smuggling deals at my table. You could go anywhere on this godforsaken planetâ hell, even in this shithole of a town. So why here?â
Under his unwavering scrutiny, her angry glare faltered. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it, sealing her reply behind the tight line of her frown.Â
âWell?â he demanded, gratified to have her on the verbal backfoot.Â
âIââ She stopped. Bringing a hand to her face, she pinched the bridge of her nose, then turned for the door. âIt doesnât matter now. I have to go.âÂ
âWait a damn minute,â he demanded, snagging her elbow and spinning her to face him. His hands formed a firm cinch around her biceps to keep her from fleeing. âYou were all in a tizzy for an answer from me. Well, now itâs my turn. Youâre not running away this time. Tell me why youâre here.âÂ
She looked up at him for a moment and he was surprised to see the fiery indignation in her eyes fizzle into withdrawn resignation.
âAll right, fine. I asked becauseâŚâ Her head dipped down as she looked away, âbecause I needed a safe place to meet with clients and IâŚI knew youâd have my back if things ever got sticky.â
His brows knit together as what she said slowly sunk in.Â
âHang on...â He shook his head in confusion. âYouâre telling me that youâre pissed because I stepped in when thatâs exactly why you came to me in the first place?âÂ
Her cheeks were rosy pink as her head snapped up. âWell, you didnât exactly have the best timing on when you interfered. I had that handled but you blew it. Now I have to go find him and try to undo the mess you made.âÂ
She jerked in a bid for freedom but he held fast. Heat unfurled in his chest, a lingering ribbon of warmth that enveloped his heart and soothed the persistent ache that had taken up residence there so very long ago.Â
As with everything about her, nothing was as it seemed: a simple request was never just a favor, a smile could be a prelude to a blade at your throat, and an argument held the echo of affection. Heâd been slow in realizing it â slow in a lot of things, if he was being honest with himself â but now that understanding had taken hold, he saw the signs.Â
âSasha.âÂ
Even spoken in his gruff voice, her name was a pretty winged thing as beautiful as she was. She stilled instantly at the sound.
Her eyes found his in the quiet that followed. Gone was the rage and fire; spirit and vigor replaced by a keen awareness. The tender teeth of her allure, that fanged bite of her magnetism that had sunk into him from the beginning, pulled him in once more, drawing him closer even while standing still.Â
âYou trust me,â he breathed.
It was a simple statement, a rather inane one in light of the revelation, yet August had never been one for words. Actions were his language, fluent in brute force and fists. Following that same instinct for touch to voice the emotion that overwhelmed him, he lifted a hand to cup her cheek, skimming the smooth plane of her skin with his calloused thumb.Â
She blinked at the contact, clearly surprised by his delicate touch, but she didnât twist away. Brows pulled together, a wry half grin tugged the corner of her mouth up, a sight that never failed to charm his churlish heart.Â
âThatâs a stupid thing to say. Of course, I dââ
Afraid of what the rest of the sentence might entail, he didnât let her finish, trapping the last of her reply with his lips against hers. He savored the tiny gasp of her shock that whispered against his mouth, drinking in the sweet feeling of her astonishment. His other hand rose of its own accord to frame her face, cradling her like the precious treasure she was.Â
He may have been a brute, but even he understood the poetry in pleasure and kissing her again was like coming home. Overcome, he wanted to bottle this feeling, to keep this bliss close for when she inevitably ran away once more, leaving him fractured and incomplete.
As if on cue, her fingers circled around his wrists, so reminiscent of the shackles of his ardor for her. He anticipated the imminent withdrawal, half expecting her to peel his hands away from her cheeks, to spit in his eye, and curse him as a fool.Â
Looking to spare himself the further heartache, he pulled away first. His hands dropped, clenching into fists at his sides as he stepped back.Â
In the air between them, her sharp exhale sounded like the beginning of a word.Â
He swallowed a swear, unable to look her in the eye for fear of what he might find there. The unfamiliar taste of an apology thickened on his tongue, but before he could utter the foreign word of regret, she spoke.Â
âWhyâd you stop?âÂ
He caught the briefest of glimpses at the impish smile that rested naturally on her mouth. Then her hands were fisted in the front of his shirt and she yanked him down to meet her waiting lips. The return of her kiss burned away his apprehension with its feverish heat.Â
Greedily, his arms slipped around her waist to pull her closer. Her lithe frame fit against him as snugly as a glove. She rose on her toes for better leverage, her kisses tenacious and bold.Â
Her entire body pressed into him, forcing him to take it. His hands roamed down her back, cupping under her rear to lift her up. She didnât hesitate to wrap her legs around his hips, enclosing him as tightly as noose.Â
Rocking back to accommodate the forward shift of weight, his back hit the bar behind him and he pivoted around to place her seated on the counter. Her hands were in his hair, fisting the short locks to make him tip his head to deepen their kiss. The hot lathe of her tongue against his reawakened something inside him, a dormant but ceaseless hunger that infused him with a powerful desire to take, to feast, to ruin.Â
She seemed to sense the change within him. With the practiced shift of her chin, she broke contact to bare her throat, allowing him access to the smooth column of her neck. Haunted by the ghost of deja vu, he buried himself in the secret hollow under her ear, breathing in the heady scent of her. The subtle blend of her aroma flooded his brain, feeling equal parts familiar and necessary, like a lungful of oxygen after a long dive.
Restless in the increment submission, she was at his clothes, tugging and pushing fabric with a haste that spoke to her own overwhelming need, never spending enough effort to get very far before moving on. Her questing fingers eventually landed at his belt buckle and she immediately set to work unfastening it.Â
Even as he tracked harsh little nips and wet slips of his tongue against her pulse and along her collarbone, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this wasnât a good idea. This was not the solution to his persistent yearning, nor a guarantee of security. Deep down, he wanted more than just this one time, this flash of fleeting satisfaction.Â
But the future held little interest for him in that moment, while he was so immersed in echoes of the past. The time would come when he would have to answer for these actions later. For now, he gave himself willingly, stepping off that ledge once more to plummet into the swirling chaos that came from loving her so completely.Â
Show Me My Silver Lining (TFTBL Rhys/Fiona Fanfiction) - Chapter Two
SUMMARY: A fan-written continuation of the lives of the Atlas CEO and Pandoran Vault Hunter. Canon-aligned with TFTBL, but not with game 3. What happened after the vault? How does the beloved duo continue growing together? Rhyiona ship including slow burn, fluff, and banter. Enjoy!
It was a couple weeks later, all while the pendant was locked away in Rhysâs apartment for Fionaâs sake, when Rhys eventually found and introduced Fiona to someone interested in the treasure.
The collector, some rich businessman, sat before her in a high-end restaurant in Promethea. The three were seated in a big leather booth, a private space divided off in a corner. The walls and overall restaurant atmosphere were painted in dark blues and adorned with soft yellows from the ceiling lights and other decor. Wafts of steak and pastas flooded the air as waiters passed by, making Fionaâs mouth water, but she held off ordering food until the pendant was determinedly out of her possession.
For only a little over a year of kickstarting Atlas, Rhys made his way up the corporate ladder fast considering he was able to meet at a place like this. It helped to have the rights handed overâ or stolen overâ but starting from ground up was a time consuming and teeth grinding process. He was doing well. However, as he drove Fiona to the place, he specified that he couldnât afford to go to restaurants like this one everyday. It was more like a once in a blue moon, special occasion kind of place. It didnât stop Fiona from ordering one of the finest drinks on the menu, thoughâ He offered that what she ordered would be on his tab, so of course she had to. She mercilessly smirked as he pouted.
After explaining the pendantâs mechanics to the collector, a grey haired man in an expensive suit, he eyed the display box cautiously. The man frowned at them, stating he would need to see a demonstration to confirm the legitimacy.
Rhys scratched his head. âHere wouldnât exactly be the best place to show it.â
Fiona waved him off, reaching for the pendant. âItâs fine,â she quickly said. âI learned that you can readjust the size of the preview portals by turning the segment that connects to the bail.âÂ
The three leaned forward in their booth, and on the tabletop mini images spun. The collectorâs eyes widened. Drawn as he reached for the pendant, Fiona snapped the images off and swiftly leaned back, keeping it out of reach. She flashed him a charming smile. Rhys crossed his arms, the corners of his lips quirked up. He was entertained to see Fionaâs cool demeanor at play.
âHow much?â The collector asked, eyes still on the pendant.Â
âThirty million,â Fiona confidently started. Without skipping a beat, it was clear she planned the details of her act leading up to the meeting.
Rhys froze, wide-eyed. She saw he opened his mouth to speak and briskly kicked him under the table, a firm âkeep it shut.â Rhys stifled a wince and shook his head amusedly, smiling in disbelief to her high demand. He leaned back, letting her do all the talking. The collector sat with a more neutral expression, attempting to be unreadable, but Fionaâs life was dedicated to reading people. She saw how entranced he was, and with a fine-tailored suit like the one he sported, surely he could afford to pay an expensive price.
âTen million,â the collector said, trying to act nonchalant as he sipped his drink.
âTen million?â Fiona grinned and shook her head. Though she felt her heart race at the mention of any million, she figured she deserved more than that. âThatâs the price for a vault key. Thirty million is the price for opening the vault, and retrieving a one-of-a-kind alien treasure out of it.â
âThirty is much,â the collector frowned. âHow about twelve million?â
Fiona shrugged. âTwelveâs not much higher than ten. Getting this thing wasnât easy; the vault monster was ginormous, yâknow? Have you ever taken on a vault monster?â
His mouth pressed into a thin line. âAlright,â he hesitated. âFifteen. Thatâs all Iâm offering.â His eyes darted from her to the necklace as she toyed with the chain.
âNo, thatâs far too low.â She shook her head.
âFifteen million,â he insisted again.Â
âFiona,â Rhys mumbled under his breath, uncertain. She didnât look at him though she heard him. She was definitely being pushy, but with the collector incredibly fixated on the device? She was sure she could get away with it.Â
âHmm,â Fiona nodded thoughtfully. âYâknow what? For you, Iâd let you pay twenty-five.â
The collector huffed. âSixteen,â he replied through slightly gritted teeth. âI canât go higher.â
Tilting her head, she smiled at his body language. He leaned forward the more she leaned back. His eye slightly twitched. After some thought, while letting suspense fill the air, she shrugged. âMmm⌠Guess weâll find another collector,â she casually concluded. Fiona tsked, opening the display lid. âWell, thank you for your time. It was nice meeting youââÂ
âTwenty!â the collector desperately succumbed to. Rhys and Fiona flinched as he practically yelled it. The collector cleared his throat, suddenly red and abashed at the volume. With an antsy, frustrated sigh, he finally insisted, âTwenty, and thatâs it. Thatâs the honest final. No more than twenty.â
Rhysâs eyes widened, and Fiona felt herself stunned as well. The collector was legibly at his honest final price point, and she couldnât believe he even raised it that highâ that she even got it that high. Remaining composed, she let a second silence pass between them, then grinned. âAlright. You got yourself a new piece of jewelry.â
âŚ
Time passed since then, when it finally rolled around to being officially one year since defeating the vault monster. Hereâs what happened since:
The twenty million dollars was split four ways between Sasha, Vaughn, Rhys, and Fiona. It was fair to split it as theyâd all earned it, seeing that they all worked together. They all set their money aside for the most part as it was a lot to have, but they also placed their money towards carving out their new journeys.
Sasha and Fiona were already financially stable from the vault loot, but the newly acquired wealth sealed the deal that they were more than taken care of. So Sasha decided to take off work at the bar with August, and the couple went to travel to other planets together. August was too attached to his bar after running it for so long to just simply shut it down, so the Purple Skag still operated with Tectorâs two brothers as the coupleâs substitutes, and Tector still being the bouncer.
Vaughn began to manage his cut towards investments for the Children of Helios. His accountant skills still came in handy as he easily knew where to put his numbers. Through networking with Rhysâs help, Vaughn planned to build small neighborhoods at the base where Helios crashed, wanting to support the quaint community he operated.
Rhys of course gradually utilized the money to continue advancing Atlas, funding technological and research opportunities, and Fiona bought some new gear to continue exploring and hunting vaults. At Athena and Janeyâs wedding, Athena introduced Fiona to an exciting cast of vault hunters. Fiona continued her combat training with them, adventured through many new thrilling places with them, and life became busier and busier ever since.
âNow the new tale beginsâ
It was one late afternoon when Fiona came back to the caravan after a long week of chasing down another lead in the desert. No, she hadnât left Pandora and resided elsewhere. As messed up as the planet was, it was the only sense of familiarity Fiona realized she had left. She tossed herself onto her bed, the one thatâs the bottom of the bunk. Laying on her sore back, she groaned and shut her eyes. She was incredibly tired. Her whole body hurt and it was enough to convince her to skip showering, to just lay down and not move. She let her feet hang off the bed, too exhausted to take off her shoes. She knew she should take them off, though. She wanted to crawl further under the blankets.Â
She pried open her eyes, but before she sat up, she found herself staring at the underside of the top bunk. Fiona had taped photos chronicling many moments of her found family. There was the group photo at Athena and Janeyâs wedding, all smiles except for August with his resting-August-face because he hated photos, but for Sasha, he tolerated it. Next was another photo from the wedding, specifically of Gortys wearing a flower crown as she gleefully held a basket of petals and Loaderbot beside her with a bowtie, being ring bearer. There were a few photos of their family game nights where the group would meet up in Scooterâs old garageâ one depicted Janey laughing at an angry Athena throwing dice at the wall, another that showed Rhys pouting at a pile of plus-fours while Vaughn gave him bunny ears and grinned at the camera. A photo of Fiona winking at the camera during a game of poker, Sasha beside her chuckling from something August whispered in her ear. Photos when they got together to go camping, one where Gortys was proudly showing Rhys a cool stick she found, another where Vaughn happily showed off his survival skills by building the biggest campfire while Loaderbot, Janey, and Athena cautiously watched him.
Fiona frowned, feeling a weird emptiness settle in her chest. She missed them. Of course she missed her sister, Sasha. She missed Vaughn. She missed Gortys and Loaderbot and Athena and Janey. Strangely, she even missed August. But even more strangely⌠rather uncomfortably⌠well, um. Yeahâ Okay fine, she missed Rhys.
Obviously, Fiona would never tell him that. She didnât even like admitting to herself that. Sheâs not sure why it was weird for her to admit that to herself, but she very much cringed at the fact that she missed the guy at all. Yeah, they were friends, maybe even good friends, but he was Rhys. He was some dork she decided to work with for some time during the weirdest adventure of her life so far, and maybe even the weirdest adventure of her entire life. It started out with a failed con, then losing a ton of money to bandits and an explosive, then being paired to seek out the cutest robot who led them and their friends to a huge teleporting vault with a huge teleporting monster. After teaming up for something as wild as what they had, it wouldâve been strange to not have some sense of closeness or fondness for him. Him and his annoying smirk, his horrible lack of upper body strength and funny pouty face and impressive knack at hacking. The dumb, ugly socks and the way he drooled when he passed out on the floor and when he leaned his head back on Fionaâs shoulder.
A part of her always got excited whenever the next family get together was planned, but that was totally because she just wanted to spend time with everyone else. It was absolutely not because it was the only time sheâd get to hangout and catch up with Rhys. She didnât care about him too much like that. It was fine. It wasnât a big deal. She totally didnât replay the moment he told her he was interested in someone else over and over and over since the moment happened. It had to have been someone he met while starting up Atlas againâ not that Fiona spent a lot of her time speculating that. It had to be someone he probably met in his industry because she figured it surely wasnât anyone else she had known during her time with Rhys. Which is fine because she didnât care to know whoever the person was. Maybe she was a little curious at most, but she didnât heavily care. If she thought too hard about it, maybe she just⌠wanted to know he would end up with someone who would look out for him. Hey, thatâs something anyone would want for a friend. Yeah, that was all it was. She maybe cared about that, and thatâs all there was to it. YepâŚ
Fiona sighed, rubbing her eyes. She finally took off her shoes, then buried her face in her pillow. She knew everyone was busy. She was too tired to chat with anyone even if they were free. However, as she drifted off to sleep, the ringing of an ECHO call snapped her eyes open. She reached to answer before she could even process her hand on the device, and blinked once she registered the name on the screen.Â
writerâs acknowledgments of credit where credit is due:
Firstly, you guys in the rhyiona community have all been so incredibly sweet and supportive!!! Thank you all so much for your wonderful words of encouragementâ especially you, Rin!! Rin, Andaxy, AdmiralSweko, and Tamerofdarkstars are rhyiona writers that have inspired me to start writing fanfics for our favorite CEO and Vault Hunter, too. There were some hints in this chapter that Iâve been reading their stuff! Andaxyâs âOur Mutually Beneficial Partnershipâ (super great by the way especially if you want a lengthy fic of Rhys and Fiona schemes!) actually inspired the bit where Fiona ordered an expensive drink knowing it was on Rhysâs tab, and Tamerofdarkstarâs âNow Everyone Can See Me Burningâ (also super great btw, check both stories out on ao3!) had the funny and spot-on idea of August being uncomfortable in a wedding photo. Anyways, Iâm still new to doing this, so any feedback on however you take the writing is very much appreciated<3 Haha okay, till next time! Bye~
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JK I'M NOT PUTTING WILMON THROUGH THAT, HERE'S SOME SAUGUST FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER:
âI canât do it anymore,â Sara whispered.
Felice had forgiven her a while ago. When she went back to August, it hadnât been... well, Felice hadnât been thrilled about it, and no one else was either, but sheâd forgiven Sara.
It was clear she had no idea what she was doing. There was no talking her out of it, and every damn time that man showed his true colors, Sara put on rose-tinted glasses and pretended she couldnât see the cracks. It was maddening to watch. After a while, Felice gave up trying to show her the truth, stopped begging her to leave him. What was the point?
There were two simple options in her head: live without Sara, or stay and keep picking up the jagged shards of Saraâs breaking heart, over and over again.
And Felice couldnât live without Sara.
This time, Felice didnât give herself false hope. Sara would stay the night, pretend she was finally giving up on the shit show back home, and then go back the next morning with an excuse about how he would be âbetterâ next time. He never was, and Felice had given up on saying âI told you soâ ages ago â it only made the goodbye harder.
âWhat happened this time?â she asked instead, though she didnât really want to know.
âHeâs punching walls again,â Sara answered. Sometimes Felice wished she didnât shrink herself when talking about it. August never made himself small, and certainly not for Saraâs sake. âItâs like he doesnât know basic communication, and itâs like this every time we argue.â
And, yes, Felice knew that already. She knew this story by heart. Still, sheâd sit, and sheâd listen, and sheâd let Sara crash on her couch. She always did.
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wtf is a word limit đŞđ¤
send me a number from my spotify wrapped and I'll write something