Starlight | Fillie

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There were no excuses for their behavior at Caleb's party.

Thinking of it again, Millie was just glad that their fight had been contained into those four walls, so that the party would not be ruined by their stubborn heads and cutting words.

Although something had actually broken that night, deep down inside of her. There was no way those two could share the same air again; not at all.

Seriously, she had tried so hard to be polite, and all of that. But there wasn't anything in Finn's heart that could make him go back to the times in which he called her "Starlight". Those happy times in which their friendship was something pure, tender and magical.

Staying by his side, the superstar felt that the world wasn't that awful and scary anymore.
Everything had a sense while being next to him, breathing his perfume and melting in his arms thanks to his candy hugs. The same arms that hurt her the night before.

And what once were sweet caresses on her cheeks, were now turned into harsh slaps, right to the soul.

That same morning, when everybody was still sleeping, Millie was just ready to leave the penthouse for good. She didn't even take some rest; the only thing she did was preparing her luggage — consisting in her collecting her clothes and throwing them inside the suitcase, without even folding them.

A pure mess, like her mind spinning now.
She had answered to what was Finn's girlfriend, she was about to do something with a random guy to fill the hole in her heart and she had to fight with Finn, who hated her so much it made her realize how unworthy she was of people attention's.

Tilting her head back to him, she saw him sleeping on the mattress, peacefully; as if he didn't drink that much, as if he didn't call her "whore", as if he didn't hurt her. Clothes still on, a tangle of ebony hair hidden under the pillow and pungent smell of alcohol.

Not appealing. Not at all.
A ghost of him.

She didn't want to look at him any further; he had hurt her into her pride, and told her all she needed to hear in order to cut him off the book of her life. Insulted her, slut-shaming her, shoved away from him.

Ya, he basically did all he could do in order to be hated. So, why, why, did her feet take her to the edge of the mattress, so that she could sit besides him?

Her honey gaze scrutinized him better: the conclusion was that Finn was so sweet when he slept. She remembered that face quite well: lips slightly parted, oxygen burning out his nose, and delicious high pitched noises coming from his mouth when he was resting well.

Her hand fixed a strand of his hair, as she always hated that pure chaotic mess he had on the top of his head.

"Can I fix a strand of hair please?" Millie asked during the interview. She couldn't restrain herself.
That tangle always made her going crazy.

It was so soft to touch... one of his best features.

Finn immediately agreed.
Being touched by her fingers was still one of the most fabulous sensations he had ever felt.

But she didn't have to know.

That was their past, and there was meant to stay, since the present was not that happy anymore.

"I hate a thing about you, you know. I really hate it." Millie softly admitted, and she couldn't be more serious about it.

"I hate the fact that you cut me off of your life and you never wanted to let me in. I should have known that there was no forgiveness in your heart." Her words trembled, the sobs ripping her throat.