One Word | H.S.

Chapter Fifty-Three

I'm so sorry.

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Pretty Boy's POV | Present Day

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Loss.

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I'm going to push Caden Jax Felix off this fucking roof.

He's an absolute nuisance, and my stomach is already whirling with inept capabilities as we await the return of the mousiest human alive. I'd much rather hang out with the loser Jensen as opposed to these two idiots, their voices louder than my racing heart.

I'm on the verge of losing it completely.

She's not with me. I don't have her in arm's reach and I should've just let her come up, should've been less overprotective.

But, I didn't.

The universe decided to show an ounce of solemn when they introduced me to the magnificent, psychotic girl with overgrown roots. I desired that yearned hope, wished for it every fucking night, to have her possibly ripped from my hold like an apple from its root.

She's just downstairs, but that's not enough when you don't know whether you'll hear the petrifying comments that fall from those glorious lips.

Red will be okay, I'm positive she'll come out of all this jumbo mess with a scratch that's not even deeper than her words. Unharmed for the most part, Romeo will live to see another day of this treacherous world, walk the scolding path of excited life and whispered memories.

Romeo and Juliet; the rewritten story in which Juliet is the only one to risk life, accept the stained letter of expectations.

I'm not assuming I'm going to die in the next twenty-minutes, but I'm not assuming that I'm going to live either. Jensen's dumber than a sack-of-rocks, essentially worthless to this ruined society, but he won't show without his army of false 'hard-ass' men that could be snapped between my fingers.

They're like toothpicks, and I fucking hate toothpicks.

I run my finger along the dulled side of the knife, staring down in a self-inflicted pity as Levi leans against the edge with me. "She'll be okay, don't sweat it." He speaks as I can't help but scoff from his nostalgic voice, feel the need to douse it in flesh-burning liquid.

"Okay is a relative term," My voice is worn from the previous screaming, the brawl that I so-clearly won against Blonde Fuck. "For instance, when Cade got stabbed, he said he was okay," I recall the night of granted wishes, feeling over-the-moon elated from such a memory.

He was bleeding like a lion's preyed zebra, losing his plasma by the ticking second as my laughter boomed grander than the first strike of lightning. Technically, he wasn't okay at all, needed serious medical assistance as the knife was literally lodged inside of his stomach.

I was doing target practice and missed, my bad. But it was his fault for standing three centimeters too close to the jagged bullseye, not mine.

"Weren't you the one that stabbed him? Ryder told me 'bout it," Levi shakes his head, an overwhelming proudness dancing in my veins. My eyebrows contort as my lips drag into a 'wasn't me' look, knowing for damn-sure that it could've been avoided if Cade wasn't a complete idiot. "It was an accident. I told him to mov—,"