Talking to the Moon
- Reads 356
- Votes 9
- Parts 8
MatureOngoing1h 11m
Last published Mon, Apr 20, 2020
Her face looked spotless and the makeup was done perfectly as though it had not been messed up from all the crying almost every night.
Her shoulders pushed back and head held up high as though she wasn't hunched over in a corner with her head between her knees, sobbing, trying to protect herself almost every night.
Her arms swing slightly beside her body as though she doesn't shield her face with them from the blows almost every night.
She strides forward with confidence as though she doesn't walk with a slouch at home, unconsciously every day.
Her hair always without a strand astray as though it isn't pulled almost out of her scalp almost every night.
Her outfits all designer, indicating her wealth.
Her smile indicating a happy life and no hardships.
The eyes of her peers followed her as she walked down the hall. Some with envy, some with admiration but one stood out amongst them.
One with love, respect, and pure elation on seeing her.
He doesn't know the story behind that smile but when directed at him, it's never fake.
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πππ'π π ππππ ππ πππ ππππ β
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Everyone thought she was just the quiet girl. Kept to herself. Always early to class. He was the boy with the bike, the bruised knuckles, and a reputation that came with warnings. "Stay away from him," they warned. So naturally, she found him on the rooftop one afternoon, leaning against the railing, cigarette in hand. He raised an eyebrow. "Wrong place, angel." She stepped in, smirking as the breeze played with her hair. "Nah. I make everywhere the right place." He chuckled-right until she snatched the cigarette from his hand, dropped it, and crushed it under her shoe. "You've been staring for weeks," she said, tilting her head. "Figured I'd save you the trouble and come say hi." His smirk vanished, but he said nothing as she turned and walked off. That night, he texted . Him: You always this bossy? Her: Only with boys who look good when they obey.
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