𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 // 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

69 ⋆ 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣

A/N: hi pretty people ☺️

Lola

"mom!" i yell as my upper body bounces from my friction of my legs rubbing back and forth against one another to try and create some warmth from the brisk wind.

it was freezing out

for about ten minutes now i've been footing outside the front door of the house i've grown up in. the only place i'll ever truly know from front to backyard.

and here i am,

getting all ready to just pack up and leave it at once.

"mom" i growl and my impatience takes over me. my fists bang harshly on the one half of double doors, the wood hurting my knuckles with the cold but i crossed my arms and my leg  bounced more rigidly.

she tells me to come over asap, and then doesn't want to leave it unlocked after taking my key,

just logic

"mom! mom, mom, mom, mom-" i choke back another annoying name call when the door finally unlocks and swings open revealing my agitated mother so quickly. she didn't seam too excited to see me, but she didn't look angry either. more mutual. more calm.

more tranquil.

that's not right

i look at her close simultaneously i step inside, only a bit hesitant of why she came in this state. she was observing me take slow steps inside the house to then move out of her way so she could lock the door, i push my phone down into my dress coat pocket and keep eye contact with her,

"hi" i say timidly.

i haven't seen my mom since our fight back at the last family dinner. where truths were spoken, rumors where addressed, and some brutal words were shared. mostly, from my mom and i's part. but that was nearly three months ago. so saying this wasn't intense would of been a straight lie from hell, i mean, everyone knows what my mom thinks of me and her way of perceiving. in her eyes, i'm just a selfish lesbian teen that wants to rebel at all coast just to get away from her mom.

but that couldn't be so far from the truth.

i'm a seventeen year old girl who has fought for freedom and recognization to who i really am from my mom who tried to make me something that i'm not since i've been taught to walk.

and even now, that conflict still stands.

"lo" my mom nods in a approval and fixes her sweater neatly, i move my feet and face the entrance through the formal dining room and to the kitchen as my eyes stare round to stay alert.

"where's dad?" i ask her with furrowed eyebrows and she shrugs carelessly.

"who knows ? probably with some other screw up" she confesses with disgust in her tone as the sas in her shoulder rose, i chuckle.

"oh, so you guys are fighting again?"

"likewise"

i didn't even want to get into it. it's always the same conversation with my mom about my dad, he will never be a loyal and honest man like he "claims" to be, yet she just keeps falling into the traps. over and over again like a criminal who gets free, just then to panic and commit another foul crime just to go back to a worse place because it's more 'comfortable'. no matter how many times i tell my mom he's just a helpless asshole trying to find shelter and something to hang on to, and he will always be selfish to betray their relationship like he did to start with, she just still won't wake the fuck up.

but i didn't have to deal with this anymore. it wasn't my problem no longer, i did my time with it and i did what i could.

i have my own problems and encounters to face now.