Tattoos, body chains, and dark lipstick.
Ina and Amé are two women who rewrite the game.
Follow them into their never ending world.
Written by Ina Seele and Amé Fengári
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"I'm not opening," she shrugged, glancing at the door every now and then.
"You know it's hurting you," Amé sighed. "It's only going to hurt you in the end."
"He humiliated me," and the thought of it almost made her cry. "The argument? I could care less. He embarrassed me in front of all the ladies, and all the men."
"Ina his back was toward the door he couldn't have known," Amé scoffed, folding clothes against her will. "You're really leaving. With a high risk pregnancy. Over this?"
"Shut up Amé," And she leaned back on the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. Why? Because she knew, across that door, Ivaan was sitting on the floor. "I miss him but I have to stand my ground. He raised his voice at me," she pouted and crossed her arms.
"Yeah," she sighed. "He lost his temper." Amé knew an abusive man when she saw one, and Ivaan wasn't it. The man was so sorry about raising his voice at Ina, he was outside, sulking, doing the most to earn her forgiveness.
"I talked to Damon," Ina said to her.
So did I, Amé thought to herself. "Yes and I am very angry at you," she added, out loud. "Actually, I'm only waiting for you guys to make up so I can yell at you."
"Huh?"
"You talked to Damon. You stole the keys, went behind our back, and met with him. You became pals with the man that almost killed your son."
Ina was speechless. Was she in the wrong? Maybe, maybe seeing him face to face had biased her on what was right.
"But, you always think of yourself," Amé shrugged, "so it's no difference."
Ina crossed her arms and went to her window. It was snowing again. When she looked down at her stomach, she could still see her toes, but not her knees.
Maybe Damon had to die. For their family to make up. What'd she tell her son when he asks about his family? What'd she tell him? She could lie, and say none of what has happened didn't happen. But... this is his life. This is his background. This is the surroundings he was born in and the things his mother got through for him.
He has an uncle. Amé may say what she'd say but she knows, she knows that he begun everything that day, he pushed her off that horse and protected her child. Because yes he could care less about her, and Ivaan, but he cared for Amé and her baby.
That was enough.
She moved away from the window, grabbed a blanket, and sat against the door. She wanted to talk to him. She really did. She knew that if she talked to him, he would understand. She knew he would listen and they'd make up again. But she couldn't give in that easily. She had to stand her ground so he'd never raise his voice at again.
But whenever she closed her eyes, she thought back to her stupid slip, and how he caught her before she cracked her head open again. He felt warm. Like always. And she saw love in his eyes the love of a madman who's never cared about anything but his prized possession.
