❝ there isn't a word to describe how much i hate you ❞
❝ would it help you find one if i hit you with a dictionary? ❞
✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ- a story in which two rivals are given an ultimatum in order to save their careers while simultaneously fighting for the...
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MAX WALKED OUT OF the guest room, rubbing his eyes. he'd slept ever since his panic attack yesterday but he still felt so tired. but apparently waking up late wasn't an isabel thing. he'd heard her clattering around in the kitchen for the past thirty minutes, and now that he was stepping into the said room, he could tell she'd been up a lot longer.
the curtains were thrown open and allowing the warmth of the morning sun to heat up the room. her hair was wet with the ends still dripping slightly, droplets gliding down her skin. with her back turned to him, he noticed something, too.
she was wearing a plaid dress that was only half tied. it sat around her waist like a skirt because it hadn't yet been tied up over her white bikini top. on her bare shoulder where her hair wasn't covering, he noticed faint, jagged white lines etched into her skin. had those always been there? he'd seen her walk around a hundred times before in just sports bras or clothes similar to what she wore to the paddock, but he had never noticed it. he didn't get time to think about it because she turned around and now her hair was covering her shoulder again.
"oh, you are awake," her voice was soft, her eyes struggling to meet his own. he couldn't blame her, he felt terrible about her having to walk in on what happened last night. "i made breakfast," she held up two identical plates.
max crossed the room silently, taking one of the plates from her hand. "thanks," he mumbled before retreating to the dining table.
isabel could only nod as she followed him over, sitting across from the table from him. it was silent, but what made it worse was the fact that it was uncomfortable silence. so different from the tense silence they were so accustomed to. she didn't know what to say as she started picking at her food, stabbing her fork into the a slice of tomato.
