Lucie & Matteo | WRU series | Book 2
I have loved and I have lost
Pain touched my skin like a shadow
Wrapped itself around my chest
And slowly nestled itself inside my heart
It's the shadow that knows best
Because I have loved and I have lost
You b...
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8 Nov
A deal with the devil I make nothing good can come of this A deal with the devil I make Because somehow I can't resist A taste of light A joy so bright A deal with the devil I make Because even though everything is wrong This feels right
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I should conduct a search party because somewhere in the last 10 minutes I lost my spine.
I can pretend to not know what the reason is but it's hard when I'm staring at Lucie's sunshine smile. It's not a mocking grin, nor a gloating smirk, it's a smile created by sheer excitement. One sparked by the view of me in my nanna's Christmas outfit.
I lied to her. I have worn it before. In fact, I wear it every single year on Christmas to ignite the purest form of happiness in my nanna's eyes. I wear it then, and only then. Only visible to her eyes. I wear it in the safe space of her home. More specifically, I wear it in a place no one else will see me wearing it. I even take it with me in a bag, something not see-through to be more specific, and only put it on when I'm in her driveway.
The reason why is quite simple. If I dare to put it on before leaving my house and anyone of my teammates sees it, I know pictures will surface in group chats I don't want them to surface. They will roam the internet. Or even worse, they will be printed and handed out at the entrance of Willamette River University's arena.
My roommates will never let me live it down that I wore something as hideous as the outfit my nanna made me a couple of years ago, no matter how comfortable the sweater and socks are.
"It's beautiful," she chimes.
I look ridiculous in it. I know because mirrors exist and I'm not blind.
"There you go again, misses little liar."
At the sound of the nickname, she furiously shakes her head.
"I'm not lying," she insists as her eyes keep raking over my outfit. "It is beautiful. Beautifully unique and absolutely perfect." The honesty in her words immediately gets demolished because the second they leave her lips, she giggles.
She fucking giggles.
Her hand slaps in front of her mouth in an attempt to contain the sound. The cover-up isn't successful in the slightest, and even if it was, her eyes would've betrayed her as they tell me the tale her voice is trying so hard to hold back.
"You're mocking me." It's obvious. The glint in her eyes, the smile behind her hand, the giggle.
She clears her throat as if to scrape away the laughter tickling her chest, and when she removes her hand from her mouth, her lips are tightly sealed. A thin line if not for the corner of her mouth that quivers, visibly aching to curl upward.
