I Fucking Hate You, But I Love You (Interracial)

The Big Man

The man came down the steps slowly with his hand in the other. He had a plain face and did not smile at all. He had a black suit on and his hair was black with strings of grey and a little curly. Almost looks like Georgio when he was soaked with rain. He had the same hair length as George too. George's mother had green eyes and brown hair and he looked a lot like her but George was built like his father. His father had blue eyes and thick eyebrows.

Once the man got to the bottom of the stairs George bowed his head at his father while crossing his hands. Tay and I stood there clueless. George looked at us and knodded his head towards his father. Tay and I bowed our heads.

"Whom have you invited into my house, son?"

They talk so proper, damn... -_-

"I have my love and her best friend in inventory, father. They come from St. Louis--"

"Enough, my son. I have not raised you to fall on your knees, yet you are viewing other paths, my son."

Tay whispered in my ear, "The hell does that mean?"

I gulped knowing its all bad.

His father looked at me and Tay then back at George, "Elle est bien pas. Elle vous abattre. Elle est noire et ils sont ploucs paresseux . Laissez-la . Prendre son retour au ghetto elle venait. Son frend trop." 

(She is no good. She will bring you down. She is black and they are lazy slobs. Leave her. Take her back to the ghetto she came from. Her friend too.)

"Father she--"

"Elle ne marche pas probaby savait même une autre langue ." (She probably doesn't even know another language.)

"But father, she--"

" Elle se nourrit de vous comme Debbi a fait. Peut-être même pire." (She will feed from you as Debbi did. Perhaps even worse)

My eyes were soaked by then. My heart was aching to burst and my legs were begging to run away.

He smirked and looked at his wife, who was frowning, "Petty fills." (Petty girl)

"I am not petty... and I will NOT use him for his money like SHE did!" I took a few steps forward as the asshole father of my love looked at me astonished. George slapped his forehead.

"I am NOT lazy and I get my butt up everyday to complete MY education of becoming an architect! So for you to stand there and judge me before I can say my name only defines who you are. I am smart Mr. Durelli and I do not come from a ghetto. I come from a place that raised me to where I am now and I appreciate that. Donc Salut Mr. Durelli, je suis Qur'an et je suis l'amour de la vie de votre fils." (So hello Mr. Durelli, I am Qur'an and I am the love of your son's life.) after my speech I grabbed Tay's hand and walked out.

"Father-papa I tried to tell you. She also speaks french, and she wants to learn Italian. That was rude, father. That was hurtful."

His mother looked at his father, "I think you owe the classy lady an apology, Marcello."

Tay and I got in the limo that was waiting outside and rode back to the hotel. George hadn't got in because I begged the driver to pull off before George and his family could see me cry.

Tay stared at me at I glared forward looking at nothing but my awful thoughts phantomly floating in my head. I was on the verge if crying. The salty substance balanced itself on my bottom eyelashes.

". . .Annie?"

"No--" the cause to just one word killed me even more inside and I broke down, not even being able to start my second word. I cried in my hands while she held me. I cried his words out. I cried his feelings towards me out. I cried the stereotypes out. I cried my anger out. I just cried my heart out.