√ 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 » 𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗲𝘁𝘁 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻

30; bad news

Rochelle and Lauren were at the edges of their seats, thinking about nothing except the health of their brothers.

Their relationship was complicated; as was the thin writing describing it. After the meeting at the rooftop, both kept going there, stubborn as bulls while expecting the other to not show up.

And while they hadn't said a word to each other, their body language said it all. It was full of tense steps that oriented around each other's bodies.

And if that was already difficult to interpret, they were even harder to understand, two blonde's who couldn't care less about the other, but were soulmates all the same.

But as the tenor-faced doctor approached the two girls, their breathing and heartbeat got considerably faster.

"Which one of you is Ms. Mallory?" The doctor pushed his glasses into place, squinting at the clipboard he was holding.

Lauren held her hand up nervously, waiting with bated breath, "Is it Logan? Is his surgery done... and.. did- did he make it?"

The doctor appraised her sadly, "Ma'am, I'm sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Reagan Stevens did not make it through surgery today,"

Lauren burst into tears, clutching a frozen Rochelle for support.

A frozen Rochelle who understood the doctor's fatal mistake.

"No," Rochelle whispered, tears welling in her blue eyes shakily. "No, I thought- NO!"

Lauren wiped her face angrily, "What do you mean? At least your brother is-"

And a frozen Lauren who understood the doctor's fatal mistake too.

"Wait... wait what about Logan? He's alive, right?" Lauren shook the doctor painstakingly. "TELL ME!"

"Sorry, sorry," And the oblivious two peered over the clipboard in hope, while Rochelle was standing alone, mascara streaming down her sickly face.

She was alone.

Again.

Rochelle stumbled away, away from the happiness, and the light, and the hope that suffocated the room, choking her neck with a lump of sorrow, guilt, pain, and heartbreak.

She teetered by the vending machine, before hearing the knowing loss of life and sound.

And with that, Rochelle fell, harder then ever before.

But maybe, just maybe, someone would pick her back up.

The same person who was hugging her now, stroking her tangled hair, and rubbing her back comfortably as both girls' tears ran together in a river of love and hate.

And possibly a little pain too.

- C U L L E N H O M E -

Death was catching faster then a disease, as Priyanka soon found out after she received a phone call one late afternoon.

Priyanka crept out from under a seemingly sleeping Emmett, already missing their cuddles.

She grabbed her buzzing phone, flipped it up, and walked outside to the balcony. "This is Priyanka Patel. How may I help you?"

"Yes, Ms. Patel, hello." A thick Punjabi accent hit Priyanka through the phone in the seemingly foreign dialect, "We have some bad news for you."

"Go ahead," Priyanka spoke nervously, voice adapted to her native language by now, "Well, tell me, dammit!"

"It's your parents, Ms. Patel," The man swallowed, "Your parents. They're dead."

TESSA SPEAKS!
CLIFFHANGER. SORRY. WELL, THE ADULT PATEL'S ARE DEAD. OOF.
LOVE THE 5 FOLLOWERS IN 6 HOURS- SERIOUSLY. THANK YOU.