SHES BACKKKKKK
Vincenzo raised his brow.
”I’m human,” she had said. Was she sure about that?
But moreover, the greater source of his confusion stemmed from why she was so effortfully performing. Her claims to be nonchalant reminded him of the way Inessa described middle school acting. When the tweens were meant to act confident, they pushed it too far. When they were supposed to act vulnerably in spite of the whole school watching, they did not do enough. Did his approval count the same way to her? Was he that big of an audience?
He decided to let her move, passing through pages of the different scripts she contemplated. Speaking about his ex, she revealed a bit more of her sexual promiscuity, and he saw a different angle of her naked body. Before, he was the one touching her, now he felt like the man behind the camera, or behind the pages as he read her smut. It sent a chill down his spine. For some reason the thought stirred him. Overcompensate.
“That’s all you want, isn’t it?” He clapped back. “For a rich girl, you’re fucking cheap. That’s how I knew you’d come here to meet a potential stranger. As long as the dress is nice enough, right?” He clicked his tongue, looking away because if he kept looking at her, he would start fuming.
Her silhouette was a glossy lie. Her brown skin shined with the glow of body butter, light bounced off her blown-out hair, her green eyes glare with moonlight from the dark of her pupils, and she reflects the beauty around her, because within her is something hideous. Perfume hides the scent of her body as it rots from within.
He knows that she’s been maimed. It was like she was closed back together, but never mended beneath her skin.
When she insulted him, he could smell the rot in her mouth. But the truly frustrating thing was how that broke his heart. That he could not fix her. That she thought he couldn’t see through her. Did no one else notice? Or did they just not care?
Vincenzo cared. He cared so much that it made him lash out, ignore his thoughts even more just to cool the burn in his chest. He knew it made him a hazard. If only he knew how to stop.
But he had no idea of how.
He supposed that was what he admired about her.
In spite of everything she felt, she managed to be graceful for it, leaving flowers behind her every step, even if they were thorny. She never really showed him, but he knows that the room inside her mind is a scattered mess. But she wasn’t messy. She didn’t have brutish fights. She was fragile, and she knew she was too valuable to risk falling apart.
Because she was a different expression of who he was. She was a little emerald ribbon. A girl.
Maybe the girl, if it weren’t for their circumstances.
”You better watch out, Vincent” she said, but he was tuning out her words, watching her lips move as he contemplated.
“Aren’t you tired?” He asked her seriously. “You never stop being chosen, Amani. But has it ever been sincere? You’re the favorite child because you’re the youngest and easiest to control, you’re Jesse’s favorite because he likes your body, Azriel wants you because he thinks of you as an accessory,” he breathed. “Your childhood friends have too many secrets to risk letting you spill them. Do any of them like you for you? Or are we in the same boat.” Vincenzo said, shutting down the question because he knew the answer, regardless of whether or not she did.
Before the thought could set in, they continued, and Amani ran back to discussing Arya, and Vincenzo rolled his eyes unamused. “I should have felt bad for her?” He laughed in disbelief, “I should have felt bad for her?”
Vincenzo didn’t want to laugh, but some deep-seated anger was beginning to cook beneath his larynx, growing hotter until it was now bubbling with chuckles.
How could she blame him? Why did she hold the grudge so long with Arya? Was it really his fault? He wasn’t trying to upset her. He actually wasn’t? Did he? Was it him or Amani? Was it both of them? Did it mean anything? Did he really want it to? Fuck. he thought, his brain fogging as steam rose through him.
“I did feel bad.” Vincenzo gritted his teeth. “And I didn’t ‘prefer you’ over her. She was fine with me having friends. You’re the one that liked to push it too far.” The man rebutted, and then swallowed, surprising himself with his dialogue. Even though he was starting to blame himself, what he said was actually kind of true. He discovered so as the words rolled out. But if Amani had been the one pushing him from Arya, then… what did that say about her?
She…
Wanted to push him?
She shoved him back away from her, and he stumbled back. After recuperating his steps, he looked at her. Her lips had closed once more, her soft mouth and her skinny frame hid away from him, many steps away.
Her chest rose and fell, chills visibly running through her body. What did they mean?
For an eternal instant, Vincenzo said nothing. He would have kissed her if she hadn’t stopped him.
I would have kissed her.
The thought echoed in his mind.
When she stopped talking to him, things worsened for the both of them. When they slept together, it all became worse. But, just now, although it was not a kiss, they shared a breath together, inhaling and trading secrets they had not told each other before. Everything was changed. It would never go back to the way it was just minutes ago because he had dropped the curtain. Those thoughts he had about her, the ones that weren’t just friendship or hatred or sex, the ones he never told her, had just been exposed.
But he was not in love, at least he didn’t think he was. The thing he did not want exposed was not a winged sphinx, but it was surely a secret. A speck of pixie dust that would glow if she touched it- but it was not supposed to be there. As many intense emotions as he felt, they were friends. Best friends.
So often, ill-willed, shallow men proved incapable of friendship with a woman because they were not evolved enough. Vincenzo was supposed to be evolved enough, not like the other guys that had probably disappointed Amani before. They were like siblings, right? Or whatever they said in those jokes she used to send him. It would undermine their platonic relationship if they kissed, so she was right to shove him. She was right to hate him. He would hate her too, if that was what he had to do. It was the only thing that might make any fucking sense.
He couldn’t apologize. You don’t apologize to your enemies.
So he let her change the topic back to the dress. There was a tension between them that had never been. It was awkward, and they both remembered how small they were compared to the sky.
*What’s so special about October first?” She asked him. And although he refused to meet her gaze, he pictured her scratching her arm.
“It doesn’t matter,” He demanded, trying to shut down. “Just give it back, alright?”
@kristi mani
@NinthHouse guys come back !!