#𝟐 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘
𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
They never truly believed they would meet again. Somehow, years later, they find themselves attending the same school. He has changed, but not for the better. Meanwhile, she still ha...
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I don't think I'll ever be able to comprehend how people could willingly be so cruel.
If it's 'just a word.' why is it haunting me— following me everywhere I go.
My brother's voice immediately drags me out of my thoughts. "Why do you want to change schools?" Leo, my older brother asks, crossing his arms. He's really fucking protective— you could physically feel the anger radiate off of him.
"Nothing," I mutter, watching as my leg uncontrollably bounces against the floor. If my brother finds out, I don't think anyone would be well and breathing.
"Reese," Leo clenches his jaw, trying to read me— which he can't. He's good at a lot of things, but reading people is not one of them. Unless it's his wife.
"Leo, please. For me." I plead.
"I'm not letting you go to a private school father recommended."
I stay quiet when he shuts his eyes, exhaling a deep breath. "Tell me what happened." He demands, from his body language you could tell he was two minutes away from murdering someone. It's a him thing.
I bite the inside of my cheek, blinking repeatedly. I can't help it, I cry easily. I know I'm childish— dramatic, I've heard it all. But no matter how hard I try to control it, I can't. "Leo, please." My pleading voice is hushed.
"Matteo even offered to come with me," I add, referring to my best friend.
"I don't like him."
A soft genuine laugh escapes me. "You don't like a lot of people." I lift my brows, stating the obvious.
He pushes off my vanity, taking slow steps towards me. He takes a seat on my bed, looking at me in all seriousness. "Do you really want to?" He asks, referring to the school.
I nod eagerly, picking at my nails. Slowly, without a word leaving his mouth, he pulls me into a side hug. "If someone says anything to you again, you fucking tell me." He demands, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.
Leo stands up with a quiet, "Alright." Before leaving my room and making sure to gently shut the door behind him.
I don't think words are possibly enough to show my appreciation towards Leo. My mother never cared— I never knew where she was half the time.
My father— all he did was yell. There was no physical abuse, but I know damn right it was mental. The second anyone raises their voice— or anything that involves a dark room. I'm a seven-year-old girl crying for help all over again.
