The Imperfect Girl

Chp. 12- Silent Surrenders

(Damon)

It had been a regular day—well, regular by my standards. 

Then I saw her. The thought of irritating her, brought a gleam of mischief in my previously dull eyes.

Adeline.

But she wasn't alone.

Three girls were huddled around her, whispering in that not-so-quiet way where every word is meant to hurt. Their smirks were all too familiar—they were the type of girls who usually hung around me, fawning and simpering for attention. 

But this? 

This wasn't fawning.

This was bullying.

Adeline stood there, motionless, her face devoid of its usual fire. She didn't roll her eyes, didn't shoot back a sarcastic remark. She just stared ahead, her shoulders slumped, eyes heavy like she hadn't slept in days. And for once, she wasn't fighting back.

A pit formed in my stomach as I watched the scene unfold. They were taunting her, tugging at her clothes, one girl even trying to push her bag off her shoulder. I could hear snippets of their conversation, things like "Who does she think she is?" and "I bet she thinks she's better than us just because she's always in that damn library."

It wasn't hard to piece it together—jealousy. And not just any jealousy. 

They saw me talking to her, pestering her in my way, and now they wanted to tear her down because of it.

My stomach churned at the thought that these were the girls who threw themselves at me but were willing to chew someone else up for it.

I stepped forward, ready to put a stop to it, when Adeline's eyes flicked up, locking onto mine.

 For the first time since I'd met her, she didn't look like she had something snarky to say. 

She looked... tired. And not the 'I didn't sleep enough' kind of tired, but the deep, bone-weary kind that came from carrying the weight of everything alone.

I felt something twist inside me.

Before I could open my mouth, one of the girls—probably the ringleader—noticed my approach. Her voice shifted into sugary sweetness, like syrup dripping from a poisoned apple. 

"Oh, Damon! We didn't see you there." she said in a high-pitched voice as fake as her personality.

The other two giggled, falling back into their usual act.

Adeline said nothing.

I narrowed my eyes at the group, cold and sharp. "Yeah? Well, I saw you, pristine clear."

The lead girl blinked, unsure how to read my sudden change in tone. "W-We were just..."

"Just what?" I snapped, the edge of my voice catching them off guard. I wasn't in the mood for their games. Not today.

They glanced nervously at each other, and in typical fashion, one of the girl species shrugged and gave a haughty flip of her hair. "We were just talking. No harm done, right?" she implied more than state.

Adeline still didn't say a word. She just kept staring at the ground, her silence heavier than anything I'd ever seen from her.

"No harm done," I repeated flatly, crossing my arms. "Well, you know what they say—if you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen. Why don't you go bother someone else?"

They scattered quickly, the bravado they'd built around their victim crumbling as they realized they were outmatched. 

Once they were out of sight, I turned back to her, expecting—hoping for—some biting comment or sarcastic remark. 

But all she did was sigh, rubbing the back of her neck like she'd been holding up the world on her shoulders.

"You okay?" I asked, and for once, I wasn't just asking to fill the silence.

Adeline didn't meet my eyes, didn't give me her usual attitude. She just shrugged, muttering under her breath, "I'm fine."

But she wasn't. 

I could see that much.

(Adeline)

I was too exhausted to even pretend. 

Normally, I would've shot back a snarky remark or at least tried to stand my ground. 

But today? I just didn't have it in me. 

The constant bullying, stupid jealousy—it all blurred together in a tiring mess.

When I saw Damon approaching, I thought for a second that he might ignore it, walk by like everyone else. 

But then he stepped in, spoke up for me. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to say.

My silence spoke volumes, and I hated that. But right now, I couldn't bring myself to care. I just wanted to go home, curl up in my room, and shut out the world.

But where exactly was 'home'? 

Where exactly will I finally feel safe, find solace? 

Home wasn't a place—it was supposed to be people. 

People who loved you, supported you, made you feel like you mattered. 

My home had none of that. Just four walls and cold, indifferent faces. 

Could I really call that place 'home' anymore? 

Did I even have a home?

The thought made my chest ache, but I quickly shook it off.

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