𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐕.𝟐 .

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧.

* * *

𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐤𝐚𝐡 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐮 (part 2) .

★
┌─⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─┐

𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡.

└─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─┘

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐨'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯.

my breath seems to halt painfully in my chest, so very abrupt that i can feel the systems of my own body starve from it. it seems that i can't seem to even think about breathing, nor can i put anything else into my obviously clouded mind that has once again, betrayed me with my own action, provoking the disgust i feel brewing in my stomach that threatens to completely give in on me in the result of completely keeling over myself and vomittng, all due to the moment i've found myself praying for and cursing all in the same sentence, and yet, like a forgotten misdeed, here it is to bite me in the ass.

"yes?" i ask, having half of a mind to hand angel to aitana, but my movement is prevented from how tightly he clings onto me; almost like a lifeforce in the wake of a new, unfamiliar face. in many of the ways i don't like, he is like me; untrusting, and highly cautious- it sparkles in his narrowed eyes so familiar to the ones he tries to read; familiar, but not new. i wonder if angel is truly like me, or if my bruises and the dingy walls of this apartment have done it to him.

whatever the case may be it feels as if the tea i drunk this morning materialized to a block of lead in my stomach, weighing me down and threatenining to throw my shaky knees to the ground but i cannot; i can't leave. i can't stand here, as if the father of my child is not standing a few feet away from him; i can't run, and i've never hated anything more- my whole body screams hate towards him as i turn to him, trying to regulate the expressions on my face that feels hot and clammy just like my neck and the inner corners of my strengthless arms that is much like my slence; prideful. i refuse to give jae anything- a confirming glance, a quirk or error in the language of my body, a tear or another word.

i refuse to give jae anything, even when i know it belongs to him.

a reoccurring consistency, i can't read the look in his eye but if anything, it looks violently offended; the whites of them are slightly widened, creased by his raised brow, surprised and defensive all in the same process. it's one of the rare shows of anger he's put on for me, and even in his anger he's the exact opposite; not passive, but indecisive as he sizes me up, questioning me and i can't help the pacing of my heavy chest that threatens to completely break any nerve i have; what do i think this is? why did i turn around rather than run?

why did i even let him stay the night?

damn. i can't help but to think it as the boy in my arm glances up at me.