Princess | A Hiro Hamada Fanfiction (On Hold)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗𝐈𝐈

"Richard Earnshaw. Arrested for first degree murder and 2 cases of attempted murder. Sentenced for 30 years..." Honey trailed off.

"Guys, uhm... meet my father. I guess," you nervously laughed and picked at the sides of your thumb. Your teeth gnawed at your bottom lip as you waited for the judgemental stares and the silent jeers at you.

Hiro stood beside you and pressed a couple pictures of the evidences. There were the news papers, articles about the infamous business man who was filled with greed and gluttony. He gained a reputation, he was one who would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

You waited in agony as he continued to scan through the evidences. Everyone was silent, and their bated breaths are the only ones that filled the silence of the room. Their eyes were fixated on the evidences that were shown on the screen. They didn't notice your anxiousness.

The anticipation for the negative.

It was excruciating. Agonizing.

Your eyes were glued on the holographic screen. When a picture of your bloody bedroom was shown, you winced and looked away. The memories came back flooding towards you unexpectedly, and it made it hard for you to hold your composure. It hit you like a heavy flow of a current in a river.

You weren't ready for this. But to begin with, will you ever be ready?

The impact, not only was hard, but it was mixed with a strong pang in the chest. Then and there, you almost lost it.

Honey noticed, she wrapped her arm around your waist, and you were thankful for the physical contact. It made you somewhat feel comforted.

Hiro noticed how you reacted. He instantly swiped to the next piece of evidence, thinking it wouldn't be as worse.

But the next piece of evidence was what set the bomb ticking.

It was your cousin. In your bed. All bloody.

A painful twinge surged through your chest when you saw. Your eyes widened, you wanted to rip your vision away from the picture but it seems that as if your eyes were somewhat glued on it.

Hiro looked at you, the worry and warmth present in his eyes as he reached out to hold your hand. He gave it a squeeze, and in turn, you squeezed it back in spite of its unsteadiness. With that, you kept the grip as if your sanity depended on it.

"Genevieve," you uttered, pain, sadness and longing present in your voice. Your fingers slowly and unsteadily reached out for the picture. You swiped, and another picture of her was shown. Much bloodier than the last. And another, in another different angle.

And another.

And another.

It seemed endless.

And with each picture, each stitches of your heart was slowly being removed, the wound slowly reopening and the familiar feeling of pain, grief, sadness, anger, all mixed together into one unstable emotion came back to you.

The tears threatened to fall and Honey turned your head towards her chest and hugged you.

"Stop, that's enough Rhi," she uttered.

All your defenses cracked. All the stitches that you worked on for years reopened. All the wounds felt as fresh as it was 5 years ago.

"I'm so sorry, Rhi," Honey said as she hugged you.

You didn't sob. You didn't cry out either. The tears just freely flowed like a waterfall down your cheeks, cascading through the curvatures of your face. You let our a sigh and if it weren't for Honey Lemon, you might've collapsed.