LITTLE MISS PETTY

26. ON LOCKDOWN {PART TWO}.

COMMENTS MAKE ME SMILE🙃❄️

**AGES SIXTEEN TO SEVENTEEN**

CHLOÉ'S P.O.V:

Something told me he wanted to ask why but thankfully he didn't, if not I would have been enraged that he couldn't think of the answer. So he chose a safer question. "Why are you crying?"

"What do you think?" I scoffed and almost choked on a sob. "Or have you ever seen a girl enjoy when she gets pointed a gun at her school—?"

"I was the one pointed the gun." He cut me off.

"Which makes it MUCH worse!" I facepalmed myself. "You could have died."

"What? You're not a fan of bullets?" He nonchalantly shrugged.

My mouth dropped. "Not when one is about to explore your stomach and make me cry over your dead body!" I was getting exasperated.

"And why should you?" It was his turn to scoff as he turned away from my face.

I turned his body to face me. "Because a world without you is misery." I didn't know what was going on with my mind anymore. I forgot that I couldn't be vulnerable with this bastard or he would seize the chance and shatter my heart to pieces for the nth time.

"Cut the pretense." He rolled his eyes. "So tell me..." He surprised me when he reached out to the side of my face and swiftly wiped a tear. He looked at my tear on his thumb with amazement. "What did we talk about crying, Chloé?"

"What?" I blinked.

"What did we talk...about crying?"

"You said no one should see my tears?"

"Because no one is worth seeing your tears."

"Yes, not even you." I angrily wiped the tiny tear drop on his thumb and then cleaned my entire face of any tears.

He stared at me intently for a while before he spoke. "So who are the worthless souls you are crying over?"

"Courtney and Kylie are not worthless souls!" I fired.

"Agree to disagree." He shrugged with a smirk.

"You're an asshole."

"What?" He laughed sinisterly. "You honestly think if I didn't see anyone worthy of seeing your tears, not even your annoying sisters, I would now? I stand my ground, no one is worthy of your tears." His tone became serious.

"They are my sisters."

"That I am still envious of? Yes, those ones. Thank you for reminding me." He blinked.

"You're incomparable." I sighed in dismay.

"The pediatric psychologist did say my autism was one of a kind." His face remained impassive. I was about to speak when he cut me off. "Yes, I am. I was diagnosed at eighteen months." He said.

"But you're—"

He held his finger up. "No, I'm not normal. You have just always seen me as Blue."