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Emmanuelle

I found comfort in the stillness of the library. The scent of old books perfumed the room, calming my mind and senses. It was my heart that could not be calmed down. It felt betrayed by me, saddened and was only focused on persuading my mind into rethinking my decision of walking away from the person whose name rested in the center of it. Dimitri was not only engraved into my heart— I could feel him flowing through my veins. A bit of him hung in every breath I inhaled, because of the place he had in my life. This was my own doing, was it not?

From hating him with my every strength because of how he abandoned me, to him becoming the very definition I had given to the word Love. Surely, I should not be in charge of defining words. Hours had passed, yet the tears that were spilled demanded to stay as evidence of my pain as it stuck to my face and the leather chair I had been laying on like a lifeless body. Dimitri pushing me away and getting engaged hurt me, but at least he was to blame. I found peace in knowing that there was no chance of being with him due to these reasons. But this time there was and I had walked away from it. I hugged my knees as I was laying on my side. My father's picture was hanging right across from me on the wall. Sometimes I blamed him for adopting me into this psychotic family. Yet, then again I tried to mind the fact that it could have been a lot worse.

I had run out of the tears by the time Marco came to find me. He walked into the room with his lips shut, not uttering one word. All he did was stare at me with eyes full of concern, I stared back with eyes full of doubt. He loosened his tie as he walked around me, dragging his fingers across the line up of books that were barely touched. I sat up and pushed my knees to my chest, hugging my legs as I watched him.

"Here, it's a good read." He held out a random book to me.

"Don't like reading."

He huffed with a forced smile as he put the book back in its place. "Then let me tell you about it," He opened up the button to his suit jacket and sat down on the couch across from me. "It's about three people. Two guys, one girl. They keep going back and forth. At some point it feels like they are fighting over her when actually only one of them is," he paused for a quick second. "Because the other is just fighting over his own stupidity of not being able to see that he doesn't stand a chance even if she says that he does. So, how does it end, Emmanuelle?"

I shook my head, unable to think. "I don't know."

"Do you really want to be with me or am I just fighting over my own stupidity?"

"Why are you so insecure. I chose to move in with you, didn't I?"

"Then why is it that you're in here, crying your eyes out as if it's the end of the world? Shouldn't you be happy that we're doing this then?" His voice increased in volume and strength. "I'm not insecure, but you're not doing a good job at making me feel secure in this fucking relationship. I feel like I constantly have to chase you, because if I make one mistake of not doing that then you'll run to Mattia."

"Why are we even having this discussion. I'm not going to run to him. I won't do that to you. Why can't you trust me?" My sadness turned into anger.

"I do! But, that's now what this is about, isn't it. It's about the fact that you're giving me the feeling like I'm holding you hostage. Like I'm your second choice and you're doing me a favor. How else am I suppose to feel when I see you in this state because we're taking the next step in this relationship. Or how you can't keep your eyes off my brother when we're in the same room together? I know!" He shouted as he stood up, the veins in his neck became more visible as he strained his voice. "You caring about him the way I care about you— how the fuck is this suppose to work." He whispered whilst he looked down at me, giving the quietness the chance to make a quick return before he stormed out of the room and shut the door with such force that it shook the whole house.

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