All For You

Nineteen

Isla

"It's so nice to meet you!"

I'm tackled with a hug before I can take a second to even recognise who this lady is, stumbling a little.

She squeezes my torso tight—she's as short as shit—and my mouth opens, my eyebrows furrowed.

"Mia," Warner warns, smiling down at her. My brain clicks and I make an 'o' with my mouth, hugging her back stiffly.

Awkwardly, because I'm not really used to strangers hugging me without putting a knife in my back.

Warner picks up the bags Mia dropped on the ground, shaking his head at her.

"I've heard so much about you, you know? Warner never stops talking about his cute little sister. And cute you are," she gabs, grabbing my face gently. I smile, mostly from shock, and glance up at Warner.

He laughs at my face, smiling so brightly at the two of us like he's waited for this moment for years, and I don't doubt it.

He seems so happy, and it makes my shoulders relax a bit as I watch him watch her, his eyes gleaming with love.

Is that what it is? Does he love her?

Who could've thought Warner would be so down bad for someone even I could recognise it in his eyes and sweet smile?

"Mia!" Hayden yells out, rushing to us. He hugs Mia happily, having to bend over awkwardly, and she laughs, hugging him back tight.

"Have you grown taller?" Mia asks Hayden when he lets her go, messing up his hair with a dignified hand on her hip.

"Two and a half centimetres and counting," Hayden gleams proudly, smiling haughtily.

Mia laughs at him before turning back to me and grabbing my hand. She pulls me through the house and to my room, taking the bags from Warner when he follows us. She shoos him out and closes the door behind her, flicking the light on.

"I brought clothes!" She dumps the clothes on my bed and rummages through them, happily pulling a long green dress from the heap. "Okay, so, you're like a lot taller than me, but that's fine. This is normally a long dress on me, but you can just wear it as a shorter one."

I try not to laugh, taking it from her when she hands it to me. I'm not even that tall. I'm 165 centimetres on a good day, but she probably barely reaches 155 in heels.

She called me cute, but has she seen herself?

If I know anything about this women, it's that she suits Warner surprisingly well. I don't know why, but I always pictured my brothers with tall, sexy women by their sides—maybe because they're the only women I've ever really known. Not a cute little loud woman that would obsess over meeting me and dress me in her clothes.

I try the dress on in the bathroom and admire the way it hugs my curves in the mirror, but it's too tight and too green for my liking. I've spent the last few years being forced into clothes like this, and I think it's time I take a break from it all.

At least for now. I can get back into all that fun stuff when I've actually gotten used to living free again.

If that's even what this is, but I'm not so sure.

How free am I really when all I can seem to think about—worry about—is how close the organisation is to hurting me all over again, in ways only they know how?

They're still haunting me, still winning this invisible war, and I'm still not even sure if I can fight back yet.

I walk out of the bathroom with the dress still clinging to my skin, the fabric soft, and Mia squeals, obsessing over me. My cheeks flush, and I don't know why.