𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬-𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲.
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She was an unpredictable girl, once naive eyes now br...
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"𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬"
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DARK LASHES FLUTTERED IN A stupefied daze, and a curious innocence shined within her honeyed eyes as she gazed at the lewd scene before her—and something hideously sickening gathered at the pits of her stomach as her blood ran ice-cold. It felt painful. Though—she guessed—she shattering feeling was just shy of a wretched misery, a revolting emotion that crawled up from her throat, heavy and so damn near jarring that the voice in her head screamed at her to turn away. Her mind burned, as if desperate to shield her from the anguish—yet her body didn't so much as move even an inch, only a slight twitch in her hand as the shock of it settled in.
Her mother once told her how fickle love was.
Her mother's saccharine sweet smile haunted her as the forgotten memory slipped through the cracks of her breaking conscience, words coated sugary sweet yet her younger self—at the time—couldn't help but shiver as her mother spoke in a tone so hollowed, a throaty rasp, "love is nothing but a hopeless curse, and let's hope you're never foolish enough to fall for it."
But her mother was a withered husk of what once was, a barren winter, with nothing but unchecked hysteria to fill the void that had been made—an unstable woman who others insisted she never listen to. Though she should've listened to her mother then. Perhaps she was too young to understand the weight of her words, too naive as she ventured right into that very curse like a hopeless fool. She supposed it was easier to forget the man who she wholeheartedly cherished could one day hurt her in unimaginable ways, how one instance of a shattering heart-break, fickle as love was, could entirely tilt the outcome of her life—good or bad it was up to her to decide.
She wasn't sure which direction to take then as she stared at the man she'd loved dearly, his vivid blue eyes glossed in a pretty daze, muscled arms wrapped so passionately around the body of another. The feeling bottling up inside of her felt disgusting, and the bile burned in the back of her throat as if desperately trying to rid itself of those emotions. And by whatever gods above who she long since deemed as useless tales, she really was going to vomit.
