❝𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆? 𝑫𝒐 𝒊𝒕. 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍.❞
𝓓𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓸 𝓓𝓮 𝓛𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓲𝓼, the mafia leader, know as the manipulator.
𝓘𝓿𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓗𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓼, known as the Rose.
When Iv...
"Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?"
This chapter is dedicated to kkwgang for keeping me in check and also for commenting and voting. 🤎🤎
Chapter thirteen
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I'M WOKEN UP FROM MY slumber by a faint tapping sound that hardly catches my ears. It rings around the bedroom, but only loud enough for me to hear before stopping and continuing again. I lay there in my bed, not yet looking at what it is, waiting to see if it stops. When it doesn't, I get out of bed with an annoyed groan and pad to the window to see where it's coming from.
I open the window just as a rock comes flying at me. My hand rushes out in front of me, catching it before it can strike against my face. My eyebrows raise as I look at the rock now in the palm of my hand—my palm that is now red from the force of the throw.
I then look down to see who awaits.
That is when I see a figure.
Familiar blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes.
Liam.
I haven't seen him in ages.
What is he doing here?
"Liam, how are you here right now?" I yell down, my eyebrows quirking in confusion. My hands hold the lower window seal securely, keeping me steady so I don't fall as I carefully duck my head under the window. Why didn't he just take the front door?
He stares up at me with a sheepish grin.
"I just wanted to see a friend and chat for a bit. Can you maybe climb down? It reminds me of old times, you know, when you used to sneak out of your house so we could hang out after school." The memories resurface after so long, and they make me sigh with a slow shake of my head.
"That was mainly because Nico would leave me multiple days for football, and you were my closest friend, so I hung out with you. Don't get me wrong, you were a good friend, but it isn't like that anymore."
I say softly. I'm not trying to be or sound rude because that's not how I intended it to sound, but by the hurt on his face, I can tell it did just that. It hurt him.
Dang it.
I sigh once again, but this time more heavily and with guilt. I don't know why I felt so guilty; it just felt like the appropriate emotion to feel.
"We can still talk, though. I'll just meet you at the front door, okay?" This time he nods, and I close the window, walking out of me and Nico's room in my sleeping shorts and his large black tee that smells so much like him.
His scent surrounding me makes me feel calm and at ease. Filling my desperate nostrils with every breath, and making my mind hazy.
