"𝓢𝓱𝓱𝓱..." ✔

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"Sweater Weather"
-The Neighbourhood
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"Just us, you'll find out, nothin' that I never wanna tell you about"
•-•

"It's the first week of your senior year and you already got into a fight?" He was more surprised I even got myself into this situation.

I sighed in an annoyed manner. "Hey, he started it! Plus I beat his ass anyways!"

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Y/n, you should've just backed down." Henry said.

"I told him to back off!" I argued. "Just.. go upstairs and patch yourself up. You've got bruises." Henry said.

I sigh, nod and walk upstairs, the stairs creaking with every step.

At least Ash didn't get the locket. That would've been absolutely horrible.

I quickly patch myself up.

My mind kept going back to the fight.

Man Ash is such a dick.

I looked myself in the mirror. I had a couple bruises scattered around. They were noticeable. Too noticeable.

Ash isn't a bad person, he just has a habit of being a dick a lot.

I sighed as I took my jacket off. My short-sleeved shirt exposed my arms. I looked at the springlock scars that scattered along my skin.

I sighed heavily, knowing they would never leave me. No matter how much I desperately wanted them to.

My mind flashed back to the accident.

All of it was so unreal but it happened. I still remember how bad the pain was. No one deserves that kind of unbearable pain.

Even Will.

Even though he's caused so many horrible circumstances and caused so much trauma, it wasn't his fault. His mind grew to be accustomed to function like that.

I couldn't come to terms with the sad truth.

The truth being that I had a soft spot for him. No matter how long I act like a dick towards him, no matter what he does, there's always going to be that little part of me that wants to stand alongside him.

"In the end, you'll always come back to me"

In most cases, I hate that part of me.
But I can't get rid of it.

I've tried.

I lean against the bathroom countertop, my head in my hands.

The image of the tall man appeared into my mind. The way he looks at me. It makes me uneasy in some situations. Mainly because there's a 50/50 chance he either thinks of killing me or anything else that goes through his head at my presence.

I groaned, annoyed with myself and at my thoughts. I peeked down at my arm. The little initials sat in place, engraved into my forearm.

I sighed.

What do you want from me?

•-•