Lucky has a good life: he has his brothers, his bike, and a stable job.
Isabella is happy just where she is. She's safe, she's in college and had her family. Who cares if her parents are a little judgemental?
But when fate comes into play and they f...
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At 5 o'clock the next afternoon, Lucky pulled up on his bike outside of Isabella's house. After 10 minutes of waiting, he frowned, taking his phone out and calling her number. It rang for a minute, before going to answer phone.
His frown only deepened. Isabella never missed her calls. He climbed off his bike and stuffed his phone into the pocket of his leather cut, walking up the the house. He knocked on the door, and waited a moment till it opened. His eyes widened as he saw it was Isabella's mother.
"What do you want?" She narrowed her eyes at him. He cleared his throat, standing up straighter, "I'm here for Isabella. Is she here?"
"No. And I would appreciate if you didn't call here again," she snapped, before slamming the door in his face. He bit his lip anxiously. This was exactly what Isabella said her mother would do. He began to walk back to his bike slowly, glancing back at the house.
Lucky froze once he saw blonde hair peaking out from behind a curtain. He thought for a minute, before getting on his bike and driving away slowly. He parked it a few blocks away, before running back to the house. Thankfully, there was a tree beside the window he saw Isabella peaking out of. He made sure no one was watching, and climbed up the tree till he was leaning on her window, tapping it softly.
She pulled the curtain back, and his fists clenched tightly as he saw her. Her face was red and puffy, obviously from crying, which only mad him angrier, as he tried not to show it.
'Open the window,' he mouthed, and she shook her head, but opened it slightly. She sniffled, "you should go home, Lucky."
"What the hell happened to you?" He tried to pry the window open, but it only moved another inch. She sighed, "that's as far as it opens. It's to prevent robberies and stuff."
"Answer my damn question," he growled, and she wiped her face before clearing her throat, "I can't see you anymore."
"Look, whatever has happened-"
"I live with my parents, they're the reason I have my job, and turns out they're paying for my university. They control my whole world," she buried her face in her hands, "and my mother says she'll take it all away if I stay with you."
Lucky's frown only continued to deepen, "she can't do this to you. You're a grown woman for Christ's sake!"
"Shush, lower your voice. If she finds out I'm even talking to you, I'm dead," she murmured, and Lucky sighed. He pushed his hand through the small opening of the window, and she smiled softly, slipping her hand into his.
"I think this proves I'm pretty whipped," he joked, and Isabella laughed slightly, shaking her head, "no, you're not whipped."
"I so am," Lucky look at her with adorning eyes, making her blush. "You should probably go," She murmured, looking down at their hands, "I don't want you to get in trouble."
"It'll all be okay," he reassured her, "I promise."
She nodded and forced a smile, but he knew it was fake. Still, he climbed down the tree land began to head back towards where he hid his bike. Whenever he looked back, he sighed once he saw the window shut, and the curtains drawn
