SILENCE || A. Grande (DISCONTINUED)

⁰⁹𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥

"Silence Y/n!" I bite my lip—desperate to cry. "I'm sorry, tante (aunt)." I say. "Re-do the whole thing." My aunt rips the paper I was writing on and gave me a new sheet of paper. This was the 10th time redoing this paper. "J'espère que vous apprenez votre leçon. (I hope you learn your lesson)."

Like teardrops falling onto a carpet floor—I am silent. There is no loud or quiet thud, just a simple tear.

Everyone has their reasons—but mine are brutal. I have seen too many people get killed to keep my mouth open and talk. I only feel safe around her. I was in her grasp—silently crying—but she didn't know that because she wasn't awake. She was sleeping—like sleeping beauty—or baby Jesus lying in a manger.

But of course she would wake up due to my sniffles and hold me tight in her grasp, asking if I was okay. When I get to close to people—they end up knowing if I am or am not okay. I can't lie around her because she knows when I'm lying. So I simply shake my head and cry.

Like a chapter with no quotation marks, neither of us were talking. The night was silent—just my quiet sobbing and her shushing was to be heard. I didn't want it to seem like I was scared—because I wasn't. I was just thinking about something. I was thinking about my past.

Ariana knew not to ask me if I wanted to talk about it—because she knew I didn't want to. She knew I wanted to keep quiet and when I felt ready, I would share. She knows me well.

* * *

When I'm in the cafeteria, I act like no one is around me. When Camila talks—I ignore. She just wants a fuck buddy. But doesn't Shawn do that? No, she wants a girl fuck buddy. Which is totally relatable—actually? Not really...it's messed up. Plus—she will never hear the pleasurable moans coming out my lips.

When Ariana talks—I listen. Because I know she likes attention, but she is also a good speaker. She knows how to get everyone's attention. Just like yesterday afternoon—when she whispered in my ear, then bit my lobe gently and walked away.

I never cared much about relationships—because I thought I would never be in one...but here I am, in a real relationship with the girls who loved me since she's been here.

My cousin always did say that I was attractive—but I would be even more attractive if I would talk more. Aïko is three years older than me, but she gives great advise. She's like an older sister to me.

* * *

Dinner is mostly my mom and dad talking. Tonight we're having dinners with our families. It's like we have a schedule. Monday we eat together—just me and Ariana—then Tuesday we eat together with our families. Then the rest of the week it's just us until Sunday where we have to eat with our families again.

Ariana is a beautiful singer. She sings a lot—and she doesn't know that I can hear it. One night, I heard her singing in the kitchen when she wash watching the dishes. It was beautiful—it made me cry.

Another night was when she was in the shower. She was singing 'Can't help falling in love' by Elvis Presley. It made me fall asleep. Her voice could make me do anything—it's like a hypnosis.

First it made me cry,then made me fall asleep—next thing I know, I would be in her side of the closet, trying to find a nice oversized sweatshirt to wear. And that's exactly what happened tonight.

But tonight I was crying—then I got up to get a sweatshirt from her side of the closet—then I fell asleep, smelling her scent through my nose.

When she came upstairs, I heard her sigh heavily. "Oh, Y/n. I was going to wear that sweatshirt tonight." She giggled, which made me even more sleepier than I already was.

"Je m'excuse (I apologize)." I say, the tiredness noticeable in my voice. "Y/n, your speaking French again. And don't apologize babe, it looks cute on you." I smile. "Your voice sounds very pretty when you sing. Can you sing me to sleep, Ana?" I ask.

I feel her lay down next to me. "Of course, Y/n" I scoot close to her. I feel her chin be placed on my head gently as she brushed her hands through my hair, her fingers nails feeling nice on my scalp. "I love you." She whispers before pecking my head, "je t'aime aussi (I love you too)."

She starts singing and I start dozing off into my dream world. This is how I want it to be when we're married.