[[[౨ৎmusique ౨ৎ )]
During the Hunt
There was this certain feeling that one gets from seeing something or someone
from their past, no it was not nostalgia–Amani did not want to reminisce of all their times spent holding hands, baking and corny nose kisses. She certainly did not want to think about how his lips have felt soft on her’s, how a simple call or text from him, could make the anger melt from her face nor how she liked that everyday he smelt like the fresh pastries he would bring her and she would place her head on his shoulder’s as they shared the pastries. Still, she can’t help but to think of it and it makes her tired. Why did no one tell her that to love would be to lose her mind? That love was a losing game?
No one tells anyone this, but love is tiring, it’s disgusting and there is no such thing as ‘love conquers all’–Whoever thinks that, Amani has concluded, is a fool. This is why Amani did not like to feel that often, she preferred the feeling of lust to love, you don’t get attached to people you lust over, because you find a new person to f*ck. Love was not like that, and she hated how much she still cared about people she once considered close, she hated that she was disappointed that he- Dominic, did not smell like pastries anymore, and she hated that she could not be indifferent to him. Why was it so hard, to truly be indifferent to someone? She could not be indifferent to Sellenova, Vincenzo nor Dominic whom she truly despised and she couldn’t understand. She wasn’t raised like this, she wasn’t raised so… weak and yet and yet… yet
“Follow you?” There was a certain appalled nature or perhaps it was disgust to her tone, and why would they not? For how could he think that she of all people would go chasing around like a little school girl someone like him- a traitor, a cheater. “Even if a gun were fucking pressed to my head, and the only way to live was to follow you, I’d take the bullet without hesitation.” she spat, her words biting and unrelenting. “I’ve been in this bloody school for years now, if anyone is following someone, it’s you,” The words spilled out like venom, each syllable dripping with the bitterness she’d swallowed for years. Amani hated herself for the tremor in her voice, for the way her heart raced despite the cold exterior she worked so hard to maintain. He didn’t deserve this reaction—this energy. Yet here she was, her emotions bubbling over, betraying her calculated indifference. She clenched her fists to ground herself, her nails biting into her palms. “Years, Dominic,” she continued, her voice lower now, but no less venomous. “Years since I found out—through your friends, my siblings—what a farce we were. And you thought—” She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You thought I’d come chasing after you? I may be a lot of things, but desperate isn’t one of them. Not desperate enough to waste a second more on someone like you.”
You’re one of my biggest regrets, she wanted to say, but she didn’t get the chance. Within the blink of an eye, Dominic stepped closer, his shadow stretching over her like an ominous omen.
Her chin lifted instinctively, her defiance sharp and unyielding. She wasn’t the fragile, naive girl he seemed to think she was. She wasn’t the girl who had once believed in the fantasy he’d spun around her. That girl was gone, buried beneath years of bitterness and pain.
Still, her traitorous heart had the audacity to skip a beat, a remnant of something she’d long since tried to kill. She hated that part of herself, hated how it lingered despite everything.
“Step back,” she said, her voice low, her tone laced with venom. She refused to let him see how his nearness affected her, how it made her skin crawl and her chest tighten all at once.