#1 in Young Adult
#9 in Badboy
#1 in Cold
#3 in Goodgirl
#1 in Sweetheart
#14 in Love
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He'd never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she'd say every five minutes...
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❀Azalea❀
I cover my mouth with my hands.
I did not mean to blurt it like that. At all.
I was supposed to break it to him nice and easy. I rehearsed it actually but that went in the motherfreaking dumpster because I'm an idiot.
He stops moving altogether. He doesn't talk. He doesn't move. And I hate myself for springing both things on him.
Not even a few hours ago I was stressing about him not loving me back when I should've been stressing about whether or not I was going to blurt everything out.
"You're leaving me?" he asks quietly. My heart pounds. Not in a good way. Not in the way it does when he kisses me. It pounds in the way of hurt.
I don't deserve Grey. I only keep hurting him.
My phone dings at just the worst time in the world. I read the text from mom asking me to come home and help her finish packing the things in the garage.
I climb off him and return to my seat.
Grey remains quiet.
I'm so sorry.
"I need to go home," I whisper quietly. He starts the car up and begins driving, the silence deafening me.
I keep my eyes focused out the window, not knowing a single thing to say to make either of us feel better.
'Yeah Grey, I really love you but I'm leaving really, I'm not kidding.' I don't think so.
I'm leaving. It is what it is and I can't control it.
Did he hear the part where I said I love him or..?
"What the fuck did I do to make you leave me?" he suddenly questions as we turn onto my road.
"It's not like that," I answer softly, shaking my head. He pulls into my driveway.
"Then what's it like, Azalea,?" I almost wince when he uses my name.
"I don't have a choice Grey," I tell him quietly.
"Yeah, you don't have a fucking choice, are you fucking with me?"
"Grey, please don't do this," I sigh, rubbing my temple. I can't handle all this stress. I'm about to fake passing out.
"Don't do what? Tell you not to fucking leave me?" I don't look at him, knowing he's full-on glaring at me. So, I make a terrible decision and I just get out of the car. I know it's a bad decision when I hear him get out too.
"Don't fucking walk away from me," he grips onto my arm, turning me back around to him.
"What the fuck is this?" he points over to the 'For Sale' sign that has a red 'Sold' painted over it.
