𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙶𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜(𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚎)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚂𝚒𝚡

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

song of the chapter: cornelia street by taylor swift

"baby, i get mystified by how this city screams your name. and baby i'm so terrified of it you ever walk away."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

    When Aaron left, it was around six in the morning. I sat alone for a bit until there was a knock at the door. Bianca let herself in.

"Good morning," she beamed, closing the door behind her.

She climbed onto the bed, leaning over and kissing me. I stopped her, pulling back as I recalled something that had been bothering me for a long time.

"You never told me why you saved Kenji," I recalled. She pursed her lips, seeming a bit disappointed as she yanked away from me.

"My dad worked for Omega Point," she confessed. "I've known Kenji my entire life."

I stared at her for a long time, my eyes wide. Her dad was the right-hand man to mine. He was so trusted.

"The whole time he worked for my father?" I questioned.

"He was undercover," she confirmed. I shook my head, still comprehending everything.

"Your father is very lucky to have died before mine found out," I stressed. "You would not be alive right now if he hadn't."

When a person betrayed the Reestablishment, my father did not just kill that person. He killed the entire family.

"I didn't care much for my father," she informed me.

I knew that she had not been close with her mother, but I could never get a read on her relationship with her dad. She didn't seem fond of either of them, but it was more obvious with her mom.

      She shrugged, sitting down at the bottom of my bed, her fingers tracing my legs. Her fingers got caught on the scar on my calf. She stared at it, concern written across her face.

"What happened here?" she asked, glancing up at me, her eyes wide with worry.

"You'll laugh," I warned her, shaking my head as my cheeks turned pink.

"Try me," she said with a smile.

         I sighed, sitting up and stared at her, studying her for a long time. I'd never really told anyone. I didn't like to talk about my scars.

"When I was eight, and Aaron was eleven, our father abandoned us in the wild for two weeks," I recalled, though that wasn't the funny part of the story.

"Are you kidding?" she demanded, her eyes widening.

"No," I grimaced, shaking my head. "Anyway, we were going to kill a squirrel to eat, and it bit me."

         She burst into laughter, and I couldn't help but chuckle just a bit. It was a ridiculous story, and while it had been traumatizing at the time, it was funny to look back on.

        Her fingers moved farther up, onto the long scar on my upper thigh. She furrowed her eyebrows, studying it.

"Will you tell me what happened there?" she wondered.

       That one was more serious, and I wasn't sure if I could tell her. I hadn't really talked about it before.

"When we were little, he used to make us watch him skin animals," I said quietly. "I threw up watching it once, and he took the knife and sliced my leg. He didn't even clean it first."