"Your fingertips across my skin
The palm trees swaying in the wind
Images
You sang me Spanish lullabies
The sweetest sadness in your eyes, clever trick"Miguel abruptly lets go of me, taking a couple steps back and sharply inhales. I've never seen him so angered and pissed from the short time I've known him. Yeah, he gets mad here and there, but nothing this immense. "What do you mean 'someone's been watching you?'"
My shoulders sag and I look down at the threatening pictures. "I mean that someone's stalking me. Not like on social media."
Miguel cracks his knuckles while he bites his cheeks. He takes small steps over to me while raising his hand, and just for a second, one measly second, I thought he was going to hit me. I take a step back, bring my arms up to cover my face, and brace myself for impact. Only, there was none.
"Bella?" Miguel whisper as his hands gently lower my arms. I peak at him through my hair. "Did you really think I would hit you? After everything?"
"Miguel I-" his hand cuts me off.
"What else aren't you telling me bella?" I can see the irritation in his eyes as I stall. I sigh in defeat and turn to walk upstairs, flicking the entryway light off. "Where are you going?"
I beckon him with my hand as I climb the stairs. His heavy footsteps follow mine as we climb higher and higher. Naturally, I gravitate towards my room. "Bella why are we in here?"
Ignoring his question, I kneel beside my bed and feel around for my poem book. My hand touches a couple of wrappers, dust bunnies, even half drunken water bottles. Finally, my fingers caress the leather clad cover of my book. I pull it out from under the bed, stand up, and open the book. My fingers flip through the pages, trying to find the pictures that I shoved in here. "Lydia, you're really testing my patience."
My actions halt and I slowly look up from my book. I feel my frown deepen. "You never call me Lydia."
Miguel bites his lip and lowers his head.
YOU ARE READING
Honey Lips
Ficção AdolescenteOnce upon a time, a girl made a vow never to give her heart to someone undeserving . . . for the sake of her happiness and heartbreak. Lydia Hayes has had enough grief in her life. After the death of her mother, she was torn. As for her father, he...