"My name is Maurice." He finally answered, his eyes shifting away from hers, "Also, your arm is bleeding." He pointed to the wounds going down it.
Brielle lifted her arm, taking a quick glance.
"I know." She said softly, dropping her arm back to her...
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His Bliss - || Paused 00:00 ⬤──────────── 00:25
11 Years Previously,
Brielle ran from the intimidating boys that chased her across the court of the large playground.
Her mother had told her she would be at this center for just a few hours—testing to get into some private school.
But, the six-year-old didn't know why her instructor decided to send her and all the other kids who had finished the test outside. And for whatever reason it was, it was no excuse for the damage it was putting her through.
The beads in her hair slapped against her cheeks and neck as her small legs pumped beneath her.
The kids behind her laughed, running behind and tormenting her.
"Stop!" She pleaded, her face full of fright, her endurance not high enough to tolerate the circumstance that she was in.
She cried out again, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was pushing to get out of her chest.
She didn't understand what she did to them or why they were following after her.
All Brielle wanted was to go home.
She felt one of the boys tug on her blouse, causing her to scream from their taunts, when a sudden force slammed against her.
Her small frame fell against the hard rock of the court, a shadow forming over her as a basketball dropped from tinted-red, yet pale hands.
The basketball bounced against the ground, loud thumps sounding as it repeated its motion, until it rolled on the jagged surface.
Brielle sucked in a quick breath, tears making their way to her brown eyes.
Don't cry. Don't cry, she told herself, swallowing the lump within her throat.
Small drops of blood lined her arm, cuts opening across her radiant skin.
She looked up at the person that caused this, a small boy raising his voice.
"Avery, stop running after people, or I'm telling your dad!" The young boy screamed, dark curly hair framing his face.
Brielle turned her head to look at the person that the boy was shouting at, slowly raising her hand to wipe against her eyes.
Her breaths were uneven, tired from all the running that took place.
The supposed Avery did nothing but laugh, him and his friends turning away and sprinting into the soccer field.
Brielle turned back to look at the boy that had saved her from the atrocity, to see he was already staring at her.
