Isabella
The lilies have been going on for three weeks now, and I'm serious, my guts are starting to spill from my anus.
How long do I have to find this idiot messing with my already bad mood?
"They're beautiful, but if you're going to send flowers, can't it not be them. I mean, just don't send flowers." I say out loud, contemplating why I just can't say that to the person's face?
"You don't like them?" I hear a raspy voice say at my behind.
I look back and my eyes are immediately glued to the woman standing in front of me.
It's her.
It's her.
It's her.
It's her.
sigh.
It's her.
"Eilish?" I managed to say. "You remember me? I'm glad." She says, putting down the new bouquet she brought.
"So, you don't like them?" She says, eying the flowers on my table. I shake my head and explain, "Yeah, my mom was the one whom I bought those for back in the day. I started despising them after she, uhm, passed away."
I sniffled and she noticed that; quickly throwing the expensive, hand-picked flowers outside of the room. "You didn't have to do that. I wouldn't have been throwing them, knowing they were from you either."
She shook her head, "No, I assumed they were your favourite. I should've immediately stopped bringing them when I knew that you only threw them away. I'm sorry for allowing you to remember such a foul memory."
I held her hand, "Don't apologize. I love them now since they're your gift, Eilish."
A white lie.
She's the gift itself.
"Say that again, would you?" She says as I held her hand while sitting on my bed. "What should I say?" I ask, soothing her tensed skin, softly hovering my own hand on her palm.
"My name. Say it and everything will be perfect from now on." She looks at me, her once soft features, forming into a more serious one.
I stand up, hand not leaving hers, grip only tightening, "Are you aiming for a sad perfection? Or an imperfect alright?"
"Any of which as long as there's an Isabella inserted anywhere there." I giggle, not caring about the hitched breathing that acted between our conversation.
"Alright, Eilish. Show me what you've got?"
YOU ARE READING
breathless // billie eilish
Short Story"When we all fall asleep, where do we go?" I ask, completely out of curiosity. "We meet at one of the other's dream and finish what we've been meaning to finish." I smile. "Would you mind telling me what you'd be finishing in my dream?" She smil...
