𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎! *𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚔𝚜*
__________
𝓐𝓶𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓮
The water is cold as I splash a handful of it onto my blanched face. Ice-blue eyes stare at me in the mirror, filled with horror and panic.
Davina.
I promised that I wouldn't.
Another arctic splash scatters across my skin. It doesn't cease the terror. My hands grip into the edges of the sink as I lean down. Slender fingers, which always look as if I sunbathed a lot, now tap nervously against the white porcelain.
It wasn't my fault.
I look up and meet my reflection in the mirror. Regardless of the olive skin, the clone staring back at me seems unnaturally pale. He presses his wide, full lips — a feature, alike his brown ringlet curls, inherited after his African mother — into a thin line. He's willowy thanks to the genes of his British father, but except for the enchanting eyes and the height of 6'3 feet, there isn't much of a resemblance between him and his genitor.
Another splash. You have to get a grip of yourself. The voice in my head chastises.
I study the dark circles under my eyes. When was the last time I slept a whole night? It's been way too long.
Someone walks into the loo. I pretend to have finished washing my hands as I blot them on my jeans. I don't make any eye contact. I just brush past the stranger, casually, as if nothing ever happened. But it did. A careless mistake.
Davina.
You have to stay away. The voice reminds, and I agree.
__________
𝙾𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐!
YOU ARE READING
17 Last Times
Fiction généraleLast times are never easy, especially when you have to say goodbye to the person you love. At some point everything inevitably comes to an end, everything but Davina's misfortunes, or at least that's what she thinks after the tragedy that has unfai...
