Starlight | Fillie

Friends or foes?

➵

How do you explain a loss?

That total, incapable sentiment of you staring at someone that was so important in your life and that now was a complete stranger. You used to share things, experiences, a bond you found unique and peculiar — rich of love, reciprocity and solidarity. But then, one day, everything disappears and you find yourself alone with the ghost of this person.

This is what he was thinking as Finn was staring at Millie: he was looking at her, but he didn't see her. A difference that only love could explain.

And he didn't feel any more of it.

Their gazes intertwined, and for a moment, just a second, it was like time never passed. For both of them. Six hundred days and she was still the same — the same attractive girl he knew she was.

A combination of long, wavy hair, that framed her face like a work of art. Pretty, big bronze eyes and a a body slightly more mature now, slimmer and tonic. Still a baby in that mature frame, with her adorable chin and her pink flushing cheeks. Something in her radiated from within that made her quite irresistible for any individual who came into her range. She was so...

He bit his tongue immediately.
He couldn't even find the right words.

But a beautiful face doesn't erase all of that they have been through.

"Finn? What the hell are you doing in my bedroom!" Millie yelled again, throwing at him her Valentino flip flop.
"Now, you're even a damn maniac!"

Her bedroom?
No, that had to be a dumb joke. He was sure Caleb said the last door of the corridor on the left. So that must be his bedroom.

"Wait, what? No! This is not your room, it's mine!" Finn groaned, as he crossed his arms.

"I was here first so the room is mine." She sentenced, crossing her arms too and keeping the robe closed with her hands.

Finn snorted loudly, "Yeah, and you clearly contaminated it with your Victoria Secret's shit!"

Containing her redness was difficult now.  The mere  thought of Finn looking at her lingerie was surely the last thing she wanted. "Wait— oh Goodness me! You touched my underwear!?"

"It was impossible not touching it, since it was literally on the freaking mattress!" He pointed at that tangle of white sheets, as his eyes were getting angrier.

Pure fire; he couldn't really believe that it took just five minutes to lose his temper. And he knew he was behaving like an asshole — oh, he knew it. But he didn't care: there was something in him that had changed, broken.

Something that he couldn't even explain to his family who loved him dearly.

"Yes, because it's my room, and I can do whatever the hell I want!"

He took a step further. Danger was exploding all over his limbs. Once, he used to be so timid and awkward; now, he was just a pale reflection of that shy teen he used to be.

There was something in the way he moved that Millie couldn't stop to stare; maybe his hips lightly swaying or his jawline always clenched, that remarked once again how sharp his cheekbones were; or those ebony curls that bounced every time he flicked them. He had that something that Millie always found quite tempting.