↳ (miles fairchild x y/n!)
❝no dawn. no day. i'm always in this twilight.
in the shadow, of your heart. ❞
one starved for emotion, the other starved for touch.
☾
discontinued (spoiler, i'm grown up...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
°✧*:° ⋆
𝐘/𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐏 on the phone tightened as she heard kate's voice grow increasingly more irritated.
"i have no where to go! why can you not comprehend how deep in the shit i am! i am begging you, please, find a way i can come and stay. if i don't move, they will put me in foster care, and before you know it, i'll slip up and they will catch on. they can't find out what happened to my dad, not now, not ever, so i am begging you to let me stay with you." Y/N pleaded, as she felt her eyes sting with tears.
she couldn't tell whether it was from anger or sadness.
" fine. start packing. i'll just tell mrs. grose that i need help with planning flora's lessons and things, like an assistant. i'll see you in a couple days." kate said, her voice pricked with irritation.
as much as Y/N loved kate, she felt as though she could be very insensitive and self-absorbed sometimes. besides, she was all Y/N had left. she still hadn't processed her mothers suicide, and the trauma of her fathers - situation - had burnt images in her mind that she could never unsee and they were caving in on her like a hound inching her closer and closer towards insanity. night terrors controlled her sleep, images flashing across her mind like a broken film reel, until she woke up, sweating. she didn't like to think about it. she had dealt with a situation as best as she could, and it was in the past. unspoken. unheard. untouched.
Y/N let out a sigh of relief as she slammed down the phone, wiping a tear from her cheek. she often found herself crying at the strangest of times, and rarely even realised until she touched her face and felt her hands become wet with tears. her anger towards herself would increase when she did this, she couldn't let anything from that night be visible anymore and yet she still couldn't erase that evening from her life. her night terrors, her random crying, her loss of appetite. it all made the memories come flooding back, and if she remembered, then someone else could find out. and that could not happen under any circumstance.
she pushed away her bowl of soup that she had heated. she folded her arms on the table and rested her head on top of them, letting out a heavy breath. whilst contemplating on whether to pack an extra book or not, she let her gaze wonder to her suitcase and bag that sat on the floor next to the front door. despite the not-so happy memories she had at her house, she still couldn't believe that she was leaving for good. the house was pretty much empty and it stunk of bleach, which often stung at Y/N's nose. her room was empty besides a bed and desk. it's not like it held much sentimental value - no sleepovers, no boys, no siblings. everything was just hollow and numb and it was only the past year Y/N has started to realise it. it took her 15 years to realise how lonely her life was; another thing she was angry at herself for. her list was growing longer ever since her dad's death. or more like his murder.
