Post by ♫ poltergeist ♥ on Nov 14, 2010 1:27:35 GMT -5
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| [atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/2zqenhg.jpg] always live like you're dying, because you never know when you really will. [ from aimée ] |
[/color][/b][/i]It wasn't that she was . . . . angry, no. In fact, at that moment she was feeling quite . . . peaceful.
Yes. Peaceful.
No more than fifteen minutes ago she had been standing right in front of him, shoving him with the heel of her palm. She'd screamed at him, telling him to get out of her house. She'd pushed him until he finally gave up and left, closing the door behind him and driving away.
He had lied. He had cheated. He had told her he was with his friends, when really he had been off with some girl.
What a slut. She had no idea who the girl was, but after he was done hanging out with his 'friends' he had asked if he could come over. He spent the night -- they didn't do anything, since she was too tired -- and she woke up before him. His phone vibrated about fifteen minutes after she did, and she decided to read it. They were dating, after all; it wasn't like he should have anything to hide.
When she picked up the phone, she saw the name Isabella printed neatly on the screen. Why was Isabella, the girl infamous for sleeping with any guy she met, texting him? She opened the text and stared at the screen.
hey bby we shuld do it on the kitchn table like we did last nite xoxo luv u!!1
The phone hit the floor with such momentum that the back flew off and the battery skittered to the other side of the room.
She could not believe him. She ran into her room and literally shoved him off the bed, then grabbed him by his collar and pulled him to his feet.
"What the hell, Randy?!"
He blinked a few times, stumbling until he gained his balance. He was still a bit dazed, even when he spoke. ". . . What?"
"I cannot believe you! I trusted you! I thought I mattered enough to you for you to be honest with me! But no, I guess I'm just not that important to you!"
She pushed him out of her room and down the hallway, glancing at the pieces of the phone on the floor. His eyes followed hers, identifying where each piece was before returning to look at her.
"Aimée, let me explai--"
"You don't get to explain, Randy! Get out of my house!"
And that was just the beginning of their fight. Aimée sat on her bed now, her back pressed against the wall and her chin tucked behind her knees. She hadn't let him explain. She couldn't. There was nobody in the school who had a phone number similar to his. He had lied, he had cheated, and now he had broken her heart.
Aimée had been crying since she'd pulled him up from beside the bed. Mascara and eyeliner mixed down her cheeks, a couple smears off to the sides of her eyes from where it drifted while she was asleep.
She felt empty, hollow, alone. She knew that now that she had ended it, there was no way to undo that.
Aimée regretted it. She regretted every single word that she had screamed at him, every single slap she'd aimed at his face. She regretted telling him to get out of her life and never come back. She regretted screeching at him more when he started talking in a calm voice, instead of trying to yell over hers.
"Aimée, don't do this. I love you, and nobody will ever be able to make me stop loving you. Okay? Aimée, I don't know her. I don't love her. I never have and I never will. You are the one who is on my heart and always will be. I would never let anyone come between us. You are my life. You are the only person that I want to be with, okay? I love you."
She had been screaming at him the entire time he'd been saying that, not letting him finish. He'd begged her to listen, to understand. She spent all of her energy telling him to go; she didn't leave any of it to let him explain himself. And then . . . he'd finally left, barely fighting back tears himself.
Aimée collapsed on the floor the second the door closed, sitting there and crying for about ten minutes before she moved into her room and sat on her bed.
Her phone vibrated from her desk, five feet away from her.
Aimée's head, which had been buried behind her knees, slowly lifted until her eyes were staring directly at the small device. She had thrown Randy's phone after him when he'd left and then watched him pick it up, putting it back together before he drove off. It was entirely possible that it was him. She waited for a couple of seconds, then scrambled over to it and closed her eyes as she picked it up and opened it.
When she let her eyes slide open, she stared at the name.
Randy.
He had texted her.
Aimée opened the text and deleted it without reading a single word.
to be continued.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
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We have a cbox again and we're opening the place up as a closed, members only rp