𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐞 ; 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞! ⇄ | z.herron |

𝐱𝐯.

ZOEY

something was off.
but i couldn't figure it out, because instead of leaving and running away from a toxic relationship in drawn back. back into pollen's arms.

i mean he loves me. and i love him back.

"good morning,"
i smile weakly, waving to assuringly as he walks past me.
"you had a good rest, right?" he asks, i couldn't find myself staring at him directly, but i continued to smile, then nod my head.

"yeah."

"cool, because i booked us a reservation for breakfast." he poured himself someone almond milk in a red solo cup: despite his richness red solo cups equal no dishes.

"i- really?" i wasn't really surprised, but i find myself faking a lot of occurring events.

"course," he kissed my forehead softly, and i hope he doesn't feel me flinch. but he does. "hey," he grabbed my shoulders, hoping i'd look at him directly. "it's okay—you don't have— you know. trust me completely yet."

he's kidding.

"ya'know. we'll take this slower." , "so. are you up for the breakfast?"

"yeah— y-yeah of course." i nodded. i felt like i was convincing myself more than anybody.

"great!" he brightens up, ignoring anything that had just happened. "why don't you go freshen up in the bathroom. i'll be there in a few."

i nod again, and rush to the stairs.
i want to believe pollen, i mean he's everything. perfectly optimum. he's sweet, he's gentle, he's— he's pollen.

and if anything i trust pollen.

im flattening my most respectful skirt down on my legs, pulling it up on my waistline and looking through the mirror.
the mirror is dull— and to clear because when pollen came into view, i could see the emotions leave my face.
"you look," he pauses for a split second to hug my from behind as i continue to stare into the mirror. "exquisite."
"just absolutely alluring." he gently smiles, pushing the remains of my causal messy bun behind my ears. "shall we leave, we're meeting up with a couple of folks."

folks? i assume maybe we were meeting up with one of pollen's rich buddies with the golden girlfriends, or wives.
maybe this is better than being completely alone on a date with pollen. now small talk with someone other than pollen sounds like a dream right now.

"c'mon, it's getting late." he tangled our hands together, and switches off the bathroom light as we pulls me to the door.
"i have to go grab something, will you be alright in the car?"

"mhm," i hum letting go of his hand. "just don't be too long." i felt like i was playing along, but i wasn't, right?

he chuckles, "i wont keep you waiting." he starts walking back upstairs— and i start walking to the car. pollen was filthy rich. and half of that wealth went to cars, he loves and adores car with passion. one scratch or tear of leather he's balling his eyes out.
      i only know this because it's happened. mid summer, we were driving along the highway, going god knows where— we just wanted to have fun. going on and off routes. then a truck, one of those Florida models started tailgating the back of his chevrolet 1955-57 belair convertible. a classical car from back in the days, only a few were selling.