Fly Away

46 - moving on

Song: Taylor Swift - mad woman (slowed+reverb)

Mia

I ended up tagging along with Rocco to work the next day, and now I'm just scrolling pointlessly through my phone, waiting for him to come back from whatever torture mission he's on with Ren.

After dancing in the lounge for what felt like ages, he had finally dragged me back onto the sofa where he really did work me. And on the kitchen counter. And in bed, and it all left me feeling very, very sore. And tired.

And thrilled.

I mean, we did cuddle a bit, but that usually turned into a makeout session which just ended up  turning into-

Yeah, you get the gist. 

Anyway, I'm bored out of my mind and I miss Zeus because I haven't seen him properly for about a day, what with all of the physical exercise I've been doing. Plus he's been sleeping a lot recently. I should probably take him to the vet for a checkup just in case. 

Rocco promised me our fancy pansy date tonight, so my nerves are buzzing in anticipation to have my first one, and with him too. 

A knock on the door sounds, and I scramble to hurry up off of the sofa from my lazy position, shouting an "I'm coming," before swinging the door open, wondering who in the hell it is, because no one usually comes to Rocco's office except me and Ren and the occasional visit from the receptionist who I'm pretty sure is a mix of a secretary and a receptionist.

My heart drops in my chest and an involuntary frown takes over my face when I see who it is at the door.

Gianna stands in front of me, perfect as usual with her long dark hair and stunning green eyes that stand out across the sharp planes of her face. Her expression is one of sheer distress and worry, and that same feeling of betrayal settles over me.

I've felt it one to many times now, with my father selling me off and my brothers trying to kidnap me, the whole misinterpreted fiasco with Rocco and now Gianna. 

The only person I thought was my friend. A real friend. But I should know that it's not always that easy. 

I don't want to be rude to her, because that's not who I am, but the words come out of my mouth like they've just been released from a vice.

Harsh, sharp and annoyed. 

"What do you want?" I try to tone my features into a flat expression so she can't see the emotional turmoil that's settling inside my body, and I cross my arms over my chest in a supposed power stance, but it doesn't really work because she's taller than me, especially in her designer heels. 

Her face falls slightly at my words, but I find myself not caring about whether she's hurt over this. 

"Can we talk?" She asks tentatively, wringing her hands together in front of her as she waits for my answer.

I'm in two minds about letting her come in to talk to me because I honestly could do without dealing with desperate explanations, but the other part of me wants to make her aware of what she's lost by what she's done. 

I don't mean for it to be a toxic thought, but it's the truth. She hurt everyone around her and even if she does know that, I want her to feel that remorse and regret because she was selfish.