I would give my soul for you

42

Anastasia's pov

I felt myself slipping, sort of. Tyrone's death hurts me. I miss him. He was my first love. I hate him with everything I have but I love him with everything I have.

The police told me it was a suicide. They told our whole friend group. I stayed in my room, looking at the ceiling blankly. I missed him. Somehow, after everything he did to me, I still fucking miss him. Prince, or anyone, could never know. All as I knew was that they hated him.

I just didn't know why I didn't hate him, after all, I'm the one who got hurt in this situation.

I let the tears fall down my cheeks as I quietly sobbed into my pillow. I was grieving him. I was mourning him. I don't even know why, to be honest. I'm not in love with him, but I love him. I will always love him and I fucking hate that. Tyrone has hurt me in so many ways, caused so much pain and trauma but somehow I would still take a bullet for him.

I'd give an inch, he'd take a mile. It was a 60 40% relationship, truly. More like a 90 10% relationship.

Prince knocked on the door gently, coming in.

"Hi." I said flatly, looking over to him.

He smiled at me shortly before returning to his resting face. "I need to talk to you about something."

Anxiety grew in my stomach but I ignored it.

I sat up and looked at him. "What is it?"

"About Tyrone... did you- like- love him?"

I paused for a second as my throat tightened. I decided to be honest.

"Yes." I looked at him cautiously. "I did."

"How? He hurt you, right?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "At the beginning, he didn't."

"Yeah but he raped you." He said, clenching his fists.

"Prince, you can't just fall out of love like that." I snapped my fingers.

"Yeah but he also talked shit about me."

Oh, I knew what he was doing now. I scoffed. "You aren't seriously making this whole thing about you, right now, right?"

"No, I'm not!" Prince snapped. His aura darkened.

Oh Prince, don't get angry at me now.

"Comparing rape to someone talking shit about you isn't cute, you know." I badgered.

"How am I comparing it!?" Prince raised his voice.

I manically laughed and shrugged.

"Fuck off. Seriously." He spat

"Don't get angry at me Prince."

"Why are you trying to start an argument?"

"Why are you trying to start an argument?"

Prince shot up and paced the room.

"Prince, maybe you should just go. We are both very stressed."

"Fucking- JESUS ANASTASIA." he scrambled in rage as he slammed his fist onto the table. I jumped in fear.

I closed my eyes to prevent tears from falling. I was so fucking sick of crying all the fucking time. "I'm sorry." I whispered.

"No. No, I'm sorry." Prince said flatly, sitting by me.

"We shouldn't take our anger out on each other." I stared at my feet.

"Maybe we should have some distance. Not break up but, have some alone time."