Run
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Dec 10, 2017
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Fiction
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After wearing so many masks, he lost sight of who he really was. They say she's the definition of perfection, not a strand of hair out of place. The truth, it is said to hurt, but soon cure. If so, then why after raising his voice multiple times was he still in pain? Where was the cure? Where was the comfort in the truth? Society calls for victims to raise their voices about the matter yet so many voices are drowned out by those with a higher power. What was the point of trying? ___.___.___.___.___.___ "You know nothing of pain or suffering." He spat as she swiftly turned around, her red gown rising as she did. "I apologise for interfering with your business, Giordano. If I can be of any help at all, please tell me so as I do wish to perform to the best of my abilities." Carmen smiled, the corners of her eyes lifting. "Damned bitch." Giordano muttered under his breath before walking away, irked at how she smiled in such a carefree manner while talking about such a serious matter. As she disappeared around the corner, he walked with a perfect posture down the hallway, smiling at everyone he walked by. Pushing the double doors open he stepped out into his bedroom, struggling to breath as the air refused to reach his lungs. Filled with a sense of hopelessness, his body refused to cooperate, black dots filling his vision as he collapsed onto the ground, wheezing.
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"We share a fucking bed!" He follows me out of the bathroom, grabbing my wrist when I had turned my back to him. "What's fucking wrong with you now? You threw a bitch fit when you were at the hospital, and now when I compliment you, you're mad at me." "Maybe you shouldn't give compliments with the hope of getting me on your dick!" I snatch my wrist back, turning around to face him, but I smacked into his chest. He took that as an opportunity to grab both of my arms and hold them together behind me. "If I wasn't raised better, I'd spit on you." "And if I wasn't raised better, I'd kick your motherfucking teeth out," he gritted, shaking me when I struggled in his hold. "Would you stop!" He raised his voice, causing my insides to quiver, and my limbs stopped moving. "What is your problem?" "I'm not one of them," I spit angrily, "You can't make me look stupid before charming me. If you think you have to force yourself to compliment me in order for me to spread my legs, then you don't know me," I breathed harshly, my chest brushing against his body, and momentarily, his eyes flickered downward. "I'm offended. You think I'm trying to 'charm' you," he uses air quotations before slamming me against the wall right next to the bed, "When all I have to do is wink to get you to flood your underwear." "I'd like to see you try." I grind out, causing him to smirk at me. A different one this time. One that unsettled me. His lips curved up nicely, yes, but his eyes weren't sparkling with mischief. He didn't seem too happy with me calling him out the way I did. "Bet," he inhaled sharply before backing away from me, his smirk lifting higher, and it morphed into a beautiful smile. "See you at practice, bitch." Carson 'Storm' Speros and Raine Carter have a long way to go, battling through the abnormalities of their unique college and the tough time sharing a baseball team. Will Raine start to see the light in Carson and accept him? We'll see.

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