𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 - kiara carrera

- 𝐭𝐰𝐨

AS HER BUTT slapped against the old, worn out couch, Mika sighed. Her bedroom had been torn apart, and she didn't particularly blame John B for it. His dad went missing, and the only family members he had left abandoned him with no reason. He was furious, and Mika could do nothing but apologise. But she honestly didn't know how to apologise for such a thing.

What she did know, however, was that this boy could be persuaded by his stomach. Which is why she laid out three plates of pancakes on the table, waiting for his awakening: one for him, one for herself and another for him for when he decides he wants more, as he always used to do.

Last night, after the fight, the drive home in the Twinkie was eerily silent. Mika could've laughed. This group was the loudest she'd ever heard on a normal day; it was usually so hard to hear one person because there was always another barking on the top of them.

But last night was quiet. Too quiet.

Rather than the lot of them retreating to the Château, which they would've done if it were a year ago — John B in his room, JJ and Pope sprawled on the pullout, Mike and Kie inches apart in her twin-sized bed — John B had driven them all individually home.

JJ had been the first to leave, smiling up at Mika and breaking the silence to give her a short "goodbye". This word caused John B to scoff from the driver's seat, filling Mika up with burning hot guilt. Then, it was Pope, who simply sent her a tight-lipped, awkward smile. She nodded to him gratefully.

And then Mika found herself trapped in her own personal hell. A hell that was once her paradise.

Only she and Kiara Carrera had remained in the back, their eyes locked in on each other. There was no expression on Kie's face, nothing that Mika could read, but their eyes never left each other.

Mika could feel a familiar spark crawling up her stomach throughout the interaction. A sensational burning spreading inside her body, as their eyes locked in together.

But neither girl spoke a word.

Neither one attempted to move closer, though they both longed to.

As Kiara left to go home, she didn't look back. Mika had sighed, finally dropping her gaze, her mind battling against itself.

All that was left in the van was herself and her former step-brother. A boy who she used to have no shame around. Somebody she used to be able to spark a conversation with out of thin air.

"Goodmorning, sunshine." Mika smiled hopefully, handing the boy a plate.

John B brushed his hair back, yawning. "Thanks," he said, taking it and heading straight back for his room.

Mika collapsed back onto the pullout. It was nice he'd let her stay last night, but she knew he would never let her out on the streets anyway. She just wanted to talk to him. Properly. She wanted her brother back.