Five More Minutes | 18+ [HIATUS]

pain

Callum's voice saves me from crying any more.

"Hurry the hell up!"

I wipe my tear quickly and mask my face with a stoic expression. My mother smirks at me one more time before we head back into the living room together.
The smug look on her face fails to leave as we sit down in our previous seats.

She's proud of my pain.

I watch as the woman grabs her purse and stands up. "I have decided to let her do as she please. Do whatever you want with her, but I am not paying any money," she comments straightforwardly. No other word leaves her mouth as she walks out the door, leaving both Callum and I in silence.

A heavy breath heaves through my lips as I sit back, hints of hurt and frustration still lingering in my mind. I guess even if I'm used to it, it still gets to me. I mean, I'm not surprised. To be torn apart by the woman who was supposed to build me— it hurts a bit. Even if it's been like this all my life.

I turn over to see his face, emotionless but in thought. He spaces out, paying no mind to his surroundings. He uses his thumb to fiddle with the ring on his index finger as he looks straight ahead, his eyes full of void.

Unexpectedly, Callum breaks from his thought. He gets up and leaves with just a phrase.

"My fucking money."

I clear my throat awkwardly as I follow him out and head back up into my room. Turning off the lights, I climb onto the bed and bury my face into a pillow. And silently, just like that, I let the tears flow. I let my pain overcome. I let the hurt taint my thoughts. I let myself cry, teardrop after teardrop being soaked by the poor pillow. I let everything out in the silence of my tears, because that's all I've ever really known to do.

I feel my pain alone.

• • •

A thud comes from the direction of my door shortly after my tears dry. It's been hours, but I feel as if I need to cry a million more years. My eyes are infinitesimally puffy, and I know my cheeks are slightly burnt red, but it's easy to hide. I carelessly turn around, facing my back towards the entrance. I wipe the last bit of snot dribbling down my nose, swallowing a breath.

The door creaks open and there is a long pause. I feel his eyes burning my back, but I pay no mind to it. I hear a small click as the lights flutter back on, causing me to squint. I dig the side of my head into the pillow, trying to hide my face. But no one comes. No one walks over to try and look at me. All I hear is a "follow me," and a shuffle of steps against the hallway carpet. He doesn't even wait for me to follow because he knows I will— or at least, I have to.

I get on my feet and follow him from a short distance, keeping strands of hair in front of my face. I look down and keep at his tail by eyeing his feet. He doesn't say a word. Nothing. He just walks through the living room, grabs what sounds like keys, and walks out the large double doors. And for the first time, I see the outside of his mansion.

It's amazing, really. There are nicely trimmed trees and freshly cut bushes at every corner and every curve. Vines twist around some of the trees, light posts are planted at all the needed places. In the middle of all this, there is a fountain, and a sleekly slabbed path encircling it. We walk around the fountain and into the car waiting for us in the driveway. He unlocks the car and opens the door for me, keeping his eyes straight ahead. I get in and he slams the door shut before getting into the car himself.