Two songs because the whole scene is a whole playlist.
“It’s easy,” She says staring into his ocean eyes. But though she was staring at them- or at least, it looks like she was, her eyes were actually somewhere else, as if unable to truly bear his gaze. Was that it? No, she thinks, no, why would she be unable to bear his gaze? “To be entertained by stupidity, that’s why comedy is a popular genre,”
When he had mentioned Arya, Amani wondered, what type of emotion was he hoping to invoke in her- anger, hurt? It was laughable, she thinks, that he thinks any talk of Arya would truly hurt her. Though, she would admit, she did bristle at a comment. Still, she had not been childish at her retort, instead she had been more… how would one even call Amani’s response? Humorous , vulgar? Out of pocket? Perhaps all three, because her retort had surprised Vincenzo. You want to fuck my ex? He had asked, shock evident in his voice, “Who says i have not already?” Her lips had curved into a sly curve, her eyes half lidded, filled with amusement. “But yes, is that not what I said? You might want to check your hearing, it seems you’re aging faster these days.”
She had thrown another comment towards his current look, his hairline not escaping her comments, but when has it ever? During their friendship? No, it has never, not even then. But then it had been a joke shared between friends, like how they would joke about the people Amani was fcking. Now, now it is different, she thinks. “Whoopsie,” She rolled her eyes, “I forgot, your boyfriend asked you to choose between him and Sellenova, because he didn’t like the idea of the two of you mixing semen inside her pssy, and you’re his beck and call boy are you not?” She sneered, “Bigfoot been rubbing shoulders with Jesse, why you’re still dicktimized and ready to cut off the only other person that might have actually liked you,” In her words, she had forgotten she had said other, declaring that there was someone other than Arya who might have cared for him. She was just hoping, he did not pick up on that, and if he did, he brushes it off as her talking about Renlin. Amani did not care for him, she did not, and maybe if she repeats it in her head, those words will come true. “Still, it’s fortunate, it’s not possible for a child to have three biological parents, but perhaps the three of you might have made a scientific discovery with your c0cks slapping against one another inside her- you and him,” She begins, “Are one of the same, are you not? After all you both dated the same girl,” Which was a lack of taste on Arya’s part.
“I stole her boyfriend’s time?” Amani does not think really, that anything but this coming out of Vincenzo could truly make her flabbergasted. There were a lot of things he could say, but none of them were going to shock her as much as this, because the fck? “i don’t remember holding you hostage. Was she my girlfriend or yours, I never asked you to put me first,” That was true, she never asked him to do that, because such a thing, though she was not to admit, was simply natural between them- putting each other first that’s it. When he had brought up, her fiance was not a boyfriend (she wanted to correct him, but did not) she had rolled her eyes, knowing where this route was going- or at least she thought she knew. But again, she was shocked. He was awake doing it? She was lucky that her skin was cinnamon, and not pale, because her skin would have definitely turned a crimson shade. She wanted to say, ‘she was tired and it was cold and she wanted to get warmer’, because yes that was the truth, or she could have said, ‘if you were awake, you could have pulled me away, if you truly cared about loyalties,’ but she did not. Instead she pursed her lips, as if in deep thoughts. But she couldn’t even let herself think of a response, because Vincenzo had added more, stating that Amani wanted it- that she wanted him. “Whatever drugs you’re doing, you should get off them. I never wanted you, not like that.” She scowled. “I still do not. It was cold, remember? And I was slightly tipsy- you were in your right mind, and apparently awake. You could have pushed me off, you didn’t.” Besides, since when did such an act between them, mean anything?
“I didn’t hate him,” Vincenzo confirmed. “But I respect him now, I guess,”
She arched a brow, waiting for him to continue. When he had brought up the part that he never bored her, like Vincenzo did, she looked to the side then passed Vincenzo, as she said, “He didn’t. You’re right, he didn’t.” And she waited for him, to continue and that he did, with a sinister smile. He still has you under his control, too. She had flinched, that had been her first reaction- to flinch, before her face twisted into a mixture of emotions. “Go fck yourself,” She had finally said, hating how childish, and unsophisticated it sounded. She was not supposed to give him a reaction, she was not. This was a mistake, coming here was a mistake. She had suspected that Vincenzo might be the one on the roof, and still she came- why? She had said because she wished to confront him about the dress and stepped into her room without her permission, but she had done that, so was it not time to go? Was she subconsciously chasing for something, was this fcking self harm? Because it was not a game, games were entertaining, they were fun, and, this was not fun.
Still, she could not let him have the last word; it was not within her to concede so easily. Thus, when he had talked of betrayal, she had defended herself, stating that there was no betrayal—she had simply left. People leave all the time, that was what she had said, telling him they were not in ‘My Little Pony.’ There was no magic in friendship, and forevers don’t usually mean forevers, because at some point, you have to betray yourself to be true to yourself. To save yourself, and perhaps someone else.
Though Amani was no hero, she would never call herself that, for was she not more of the fallen angel? She was, and she was to act like it. She had always prided herself on her composure—a trait she had inherited from her father. But what she was now, no one would describe as composed, for she had blinked in shock and taken a step back—though there was nowhere to even step back—when he had raised his voice at her comment. Not out of fear, no, she wasn’t scared of Vincenzo, but out of shock. He was angry, on the verge of a breaking point and Amani steadied herself, she pursed her lips, and she could feel the thrum beneath her skin, an insistent beat echoing in her ears and pulsing in her throat. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts, every exhale a struggle to maintain her exterior of calm indifference. It was as if a wild, untamed force had awakened within her, each surge of energy making her feel simultaneously powerful and fragile. Her chest tightened, the air around her suddenly thick and stifling, while a warmth spread through her limbs, demanding action, movement, an outlet for the tumult inside. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls pressing in as her vision narrowed, focusing solely on Vincenzo’s fiery eyes. Say nothing, she told herself, say nothing she repeated in her mind, keep up the act and tell him she was not acting but she couldn’t, because in that moment, she was terrified.
Terrified of the raw emotion in his voice, the depth of his hurt, the intensity of his gaze. She was terrified of his words. “I did care,” She finally admits looking down at her shoes like a little girl. “I suppose I did,” She opened her mouth, “But-” she shut her mouth. There was nothing to say, she didn’t know what else to say because there were no buts to it, and she couldn’t even feign one. Was this how King Rehoboam was when he lost his kingdom? Did he feel the same defeated emotion as her? There were similar in a way that they had lost a kingdom, only his was a physical one and Amani’s was an emotional one. She was over this, she wanted to change topics and luckily they did, as they began to talk about her dress, and her stoic mask returned.
Remembering that Vincenzo had brought her this dress, this dress he had probably given to one of his wh@res to mock her. ‘reminder’ she reminded herself, ‘there’s no more Enzo and Amani- it was just Amani, and it was just Enzo’. He told her the dress matched her eyes, and she said it was green, knowing that they both knew what she meant. She will finish the sentence in her head, and he will too. But he had buried his face in his hands, and he asked her why he got it for her. To embarrass me, she thought- to play a joke, but she didn’t think that was what it was. Something in her mind was telling her it was important, something was important, but she didn’t know what and perhaps it was simply delusions. “How would I know?” She twisted her face, “I am not a mind reader,”
mentioned:
@CerealKiller - Arya
@Madilfill - ren