She isn't fine like she pretends to be. On the contrary.
Liliana Storm Whitlock is shattered into a thousand pieces, used from the ones she loves, betrayed by the ones she loves, broken by the ones she loves.
So she lost herself.
And it all seems t...
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Raya drags me behind her as we run toward the bus filled with the guys from the hockey team. They just won against a team in DC, bringing them one step closer to the championship.
Dread weights in my stomach when I see Rhys step out of the bus, bag hanging over his shoulder, a wide grin spreading on his face. But it disappears when he sets his eyes on me.
We haven't talked since the club, him being cold toward me even though I should be furious with him. He kicked me out of his club, letting me freeze on the streets for minutes for what I can remember. He has no right to be mad at me.
He rips his brown eyes away from me, heading straight to the parking lot to get to his car. Ostin and a few of his teammates cheer and throw some random memories of their game at Raya and me, while we listen. Or rather I simply hear, but the information comes in on one side before it goes right out on the other side. I can't listen. While my thoughts stay stuck to Rhys, my heart and my brain are congruent on the fact that he is a walking red flag.
Lying. Emotionless. Asshole.
"Come on Lili. Come celebrate with us." Louis, one of the guys I had the chance to meet over the past weeks, nudges me as we start walking toward our building to celebrate their win. His french accent is light when he speaks, given a hint of his true origins. "I'll make it my personal task to get you drunk tonight." He laughs, his dimples showing as the sun shines right into our faces, and revealing his freckles on his nose and cheeks.
"I won't do "drunk" tonight Louis." I states when I remember how embarrassingly drunk I was the night we went to the club with Raya. Ostin made sure to tease me about all the shity things I said that night. Making sure to empathise on the encounter between Rhys and me.
I'm already thinking back to his mouth so close to my ear, his hands on my hips...
Oh god.
Just then, the concerned person appears right in front of us, bottles in hand, joining the group to head to Ostin's flat to drink and celebrate their win.
A dozen of drinks later, we are all settled on Ostin's couch, alcohol running wild in our system. Louis in fact did corrupt me into drinking too much. Manipulator. But I can't blame him, the bottle of alcohol Rhys brought is heavenly tasty and for sure god damn expensive so I couldn't really keep my hands of the bottle.
But I like this feeling of being tipsy. The comforting wave of happiness enveloping me completely, silencing this constant tantrum of voices in my head for the night. It's enjoyable and addicting, which should be an imminent red flag. Except that these past few days, or year I like to shut my eyes on red flags.
Especially now that one is standing right behind me as I poor myself a fresh glass of water, it's aura already intoxicating the oxygen I am trying to breath in.
"I told you not to drink that much, Storm."
My head snaps to the side, catching the wild fire that spreads in the eyes of Rhys as he leans against the counter, not once taking his eyes off of me.
