wrecked

» 07

Aito's POV

"Thank you!" I say while walking out of the bakery. Family owned businesses always seem to be the most welcoming. Passed down family recipes, wanting to spread the joy of their food.

This is the second time I have been in here. The first was when Y/N and I first moved in. Both tired, I noticed a bakery on the drive to our current apartment. When she was in the shower that night, I walked over to get us dinner. They happened to mini dinners you can pack up and bring home. We were both amazed by how good they were. But that was a while ago.

The smell of baked goods turns into a smell of yuck. The smell of a city, that's for sure. Holding two bags filled with food in my left hand, I use my right to search for my phone. I wonder if the asshole sent anything.

I stop walking. I walk over the side, people could get through without me in the way. I put the bags of food on the ground. I frantically search my pockets. Nothing, just lint and a few coins. Shit, shit, shit, this is bad. I must have left it on the table by the couch. I brush a hand through my hair. "Fuck, this is bad" I mumble under my breath.

I pick up the food, and speed walk back to the apartment. In a matter of seconds, it turned into a run. My muscles ache, with the cold weather, and not warming up, this is putting a lot of strain on my legs. Sorry, Coach.

If Y/N got into my phone, she would see the texts from her father. And that is the last thing that I want her to know. That I keep in contact with him, that he wants to meet every damn month. This is bad. I make it to the apartment building, and quickly open up the door, rushing over to the elevator. Without thinking, I stop in my tracks. I look around me, looking for a door or sign. There it is. The stairs, I don't have time to wait for the elevator.

I dodge people as I run to the stairs. I hear people yelling at me to slow down, but they are the least of my worries. I swing open the door to the stairs and start running up, up, and up. By the time I reach my floor, my breathing is harsh. I drop the bags next to my feet, and catch my breath at the top of the stairs, the door to my floor in front of me. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What am I going to do if she read the texts?

I grab the bags of food, and swing open the door to my floor. I quickly race to our apartment, my legs stinging. I reach the door to our place, and fumble with the keys. "Shit, come on..."

I open the door, and look at Y/N, who is sitting on the couch. I feel fear, all the blood from my body, drained.
Y/N notices, and gives me a look of confusion. The look she gave was suddenly gone when the sound of breaking glass was heard.

Y/N looked over to where the noise was heard, and saw that a vase that had once been put on a shelf, is now in pieces on the floor. She looks back at me, fear in her eyes. "I-I-"

"Shh..." I say. I take off my shoes, put my coat back on the hook, and slowly put the food on the table. I don't move, I don't say anything. She made that vase float, on its own, before it hit the floor. What am I supposed to do?

I look over a Y/N. She's shaking. She's waiting, waiting to be hurt, beaten. But that's none of my worries. My worries are how I'm supposed to tell her what happened. I can't not tell her, she is the one that caused it, damn.

"Have you seen my phone?" I ask, breaking the silence. Y/N looks up at me, and points, with a shaky hand, over to the table next to her. I sigh, knowing that she read the messages. "How much have you read?"

She gives off a look of shock. "I-I- most of it."

"Damn, why can't you just keep to yourself?!" She flinches at my tone. I run a hand through my hair, tugging on it a bit. I start pacing around the room. What am I supposed to do? "W-why did you l-look scared?" I looked over to where I heard her frale voice.

"Why? Why?! Because, before that damn vase broke, it was floating,
Y/N. Fucking floating!"

I have never seen her do something like this. I knew she had such abilities, but I never actually saw it. All because of my damn soft side. What am I supposed to tell her father tomorrow? He's going to trash talk me.

"Floating?" She asks, quietly.

I grab one of the dining table chairs, and take a seat, resting my head on my hands. I grab a junk of my hair, and pull it. "Fuck, I'm going to have to tell you something." I look up, and look at her in her E/C eyes.

"You know how I've been leaving to go somewhere every month? Well, I'm meeting your father."

Should I tell her more? No, I want that fuck face to explain to his own daughter what is going on with her.

Y/N stays quiet. "Tomorrow, I'm going to bring you with me, even if it means getting my ass kicked."

Y/N's POV

I stay quiet. I knew that my father was meeting him, because of the texts. But from the way he is reacting, it's something more than a meeting. I never saw what had happened, but all I know is that the vase had been floating. But that's not true, is it?

"Come on, we need to eat before this gets cold" Aito says, walking to the kitchen to get plates. I don't move off of the couch. I don't want to. If what Aito says is true about me floating that vase, then it would be safer for me to stay away. Why am I protecting him?

I get up from the couch, and make my way to the bedroom. "I'm not hungry." I hear the stop of dishes hitting together, knowing that Aito is staring at me, but not saying anything to stop me. I shut the bedroom door behind me, and slide down, hugging my legs. Not worrying about the broken glass. Why me?