𝙎𝙒𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙒𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 | Will Graham

S1. Ep. 08 | Sublime Hatred

"STOP IT, WINSTON." Will Graham groaned as his dogs continued to cry and whimper to him, pleading cutely. "She's not coming back, stop it." He tried to tell his dog, but he had betrayed him already. "You need to deal with it." He advised mostly to himself rather than the animal. "Stop missing her, you don't, even like her." The dog barked contrary to his words. "No, you don't." The dog insisted. "Yeah, she gave you treats when she was around, yeah, so what? That's what she does, she's not committed, she's annoying, egotistic, and narcissistic. She doesn't care about you at all." The dog made a sad face. "She cares so much that she didn't even try to contact, see?" He showed the dog his phone. "Forget her."

He practically threw the device away back in the sofa as Winston buried his hands in his paws while lying on the floor. Days has passed and his meetings with Teresa Brooks completely faded away as snowflakes melting in spring. The engines of the boat's engine remained there, on the floor, staring back at his misery while he continuously complained.

Will Graham was in pieces, he couldn't sleep due to his nightmares and his wonderful temporary medicine wasn't available currently, well, maybe it could be, if he wasn't so stubborn to actually talk to her as two adults. Now he would only be there, imagining the ghosts of her curves and the illusions of her perfume, of how her hair was tangled and messy when she woke up on his bed, or how she'd make coffee the next morning while playing with the dogs that followed her everywhere.

Shook his head to wake up, missing Teresa Brooks? That was insanity, he would never fall for that woman, he couldn't fall for that woman.

She was the type of poison that infected her heart, and he didn't wish to find a cure for it.

All he could do was listen to Winston whimpering as a little kid. "Traitor" His owner muttered under his breath and turned back to the repairing of the boat.

...

Delilah Brooks prepared tea in the kitchen, the aroma filled the air, driving itself to the living room where her niece stood still, hypnotized by an old family portrait of 23 years ago, where life was just about to reach its' downfall.

"That's my favorite." Her Aunt's voice echoed as she approached her in the living room, holding the small dark ocean-blue cup in her hands. "She looked so happy, so...alive" Delilah said with hidden nostalgia. "Drink it slowly, it's very hot."

Teresa didn't follow her instructions, as an anxious child, and coughed out loud as she almost burned her tongue. Delilah clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.

"I told you." She remarked and the girl made a face. "You seem nervous, is something on your mind?"

How to tell your aunt about two men who occupied her most dirty thoughts, and about the dilemma of being scared to reveal yourself to your father, without sounding like a crazy psycho bitch who followed his steps only to meet him?

No answer seemed adequate enough.

"Just work stuff."She lied through her teeth once again as her eyes darted to the photograph. Her mother was so young, eyes so radiant, almost just like hers, hair blowing to the wind as she smiled at the picture. "Where was this taken?"

"I took her on a trip to Niagara Falls. It was just before..."Delilah's smile faded as she realized the rest of her sentence.

"...Before he left." Teresa completed her aunt's sentence and she nodded. "I still don't understand how he could have left her so easily..."

"According to Amelia, he had no clue about your existence." Delilah tried to empathize as the good Christian she was. "Perhaps..."

"Perhaps he could've forcedly stayed? That's what you mean?" Teresa scoffed as she let down the cup on a shelf and crossed her arms relying her back on the cold wall with disdain. "He actively decided to leave her, who knows he wouldn't have left even knowing about me?"