[౨ৎ]
At that instant, Amani was engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions, none of them bearing any semblance of positivity. She had advanced toward him, her hand connecting with his cheek in a swift motion, her expression contorted with disdain. ‘You knew it was me, didn’t you?’ she had demanded, her voice laced with anger and accusation. Yet, he had remained unperturbed, devoid of any visible emotion, as he calmly refuted her claim, stating that no, he had not initially recognized her. It was only the faint tattoo on her back that had eventually led him to the truth.
Ah yes, the ‘tattoo’—the tiny Monet inscription adorning her lower back. He must have noticed it, must have caught a glimpse when she had turned away, and she could sense his gaze penetrating her skin, scrutinizing every detail.
“Not at the start, no, but halfway through,” She hissed, “You could have stopped at any moment, ended the charade when you realized it was me, but you chose not to.".” She began, “You didn’t stop because you couldn’t—because you couldn’t resist the opportunity to seek revenge on me for leaving you to be poor, friendless little Enzo, or because you harbor some twisted obsession with me.” She spat out.
“I think it’s both, isn’t it?” She asked, her voice cutting through the air. “You couldn’t stand that I left you so easily, that I never came back for you. Left you little treats wherever I walked, so you could always follow me, we could always be together and You could pretend… .” She trailed off, stepping closer to him until she was close enough to whisper in his ear.
" We could pretend that we were each other’s salvation, that I needed you just as much as you wanted me." Amani lowered her voice, “But the thing is, no one has ever needed you or wanted you. Not your parents, who either chose death over you or completely abandoned you. Not Bigfoot, who remains friends with Jesse despite knowing how much you despise him. And not me”, she declared, her gaze unwavering.
“It sucks doesn’t it? Being so alone in this world, not having me holding your hand, telling you everything is going to be ok, that we shall be partners in crime forever.” She took a step back, her eyes cold as she stared at him, leaving her words hanging heavily in the air.
“But hey,” Amani began, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she glanced over his outfit. “I suppose it is a crime to look this beautiful,” She said, referring to herself, “And for your clothes to represent everything wrong with men fashion today, so I suppose we are both committing crimes together, I’ll give you that Vincenzo.” She emphasized his name, knowing he preferred not to go by it.
“Look at us, being partners in crime once more. It’s ok, I know your smiling, twirling your thinning hair and kicking your feet deep down, is that right my good little chien?” She mocked.
She fell silent, crossing her arms as she attempted to calm herself down. She needed to regain her composure so she could leave. Her hands dropped to her sides, her gaze flickering towards the door, her feet poised to take her away from this suffocating place, away from him. She wanted to forget this ever happened, to cleanse herself with water and wash away the memories. She could blame it all on the alcohol, even though she hadn’t drunk enough to be intoxicated, and blame it on the demonic psycho.
Tomorrow, she would go to a café before class, order a hot caramel latte, and perhaps a bagel or croissant to go with it. She would push tonight’s events from her mind, forget the fact that she slept with Vincenzo, and try to ignore the part of her that had enjoyed it.
She was on the verge of leaving when he began to speak, his voice carrying an unexpected edge of anger. Her brows rose in surprise, and despite her efforts to remain unaffected, Amani found herself freezing. She glanced down briefly before meeting his gaze, any trace of pity or friendliness evaporating instantly. What did he know about her? About her family? What did he even know about having a family?
She did not want him to see, that he was having an effect on her, that she had flinched when he spoke about her fiance. She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to maintain her composure. “And I’m sure your parents killed themselves because they will rather go to fcking hell than take care of a son like you, and honestly I can’t blame them,” She retorted, her voice dripping with venom. “Be careful when speaking about parents, Vincenzo, you know nothing about my father nor our relationship, you don’t even know how a proper family is supposed to be like or how love is supposed to feel like. What do you even know about love?” She questioned. “No, really because I want to know what makes you so cocky, so self-righteous that you feel like you have any right to judge all that you ever could get… Was I a shxtty friend?” Amani questioned as she began circling around him.
“Perhaps it was shxtty on my part to give you that ring, to let you rest your head on my lap while I ran my fingers through your hair as we both poured out our problems,” she remarked, standing behind him with a mocking glint in her eyes. “Do you remember, Enzo? Do you remember the day we were on the rooftop together, drowning in exams and stress?” She continued, her tone laced with bitter reminiscence. “You saw how overwhelmed I was, how much I had studied, and then you stole my books, insisting that I follow the clues you left behind to retrieve them. I laughed at how ridiculous it all seemed, yet secretly relished in the moment of relaxation you provided. You were right, I did need that break. But yes, , it was indeed shxtty of me to let you do that, to give you the wrong impression of what you meant to me, when if only I was brave enough, I should have pushed your head off and watched you fall because you truly have no self-respect.” Amani whispered softly into his ear. It was so soft, so loving the tone she used, that one would not imagine the words that she was saying could be so bitter, so cruel.
“Oh no! I Left you when i found out you were a poor, sad guy with no family and money and blah blah. Get over it, it was months ago.” She told him, leaving his back and going in front of him. “I can’t believe-i can’t believe that maybe there was actually a part of me that li-” Amani stopped herself, shaking her head. "No, let me not dwell on that, because it will get me so angry to think there was actually a part of me blind to the fact that you were and still are-no matter how much you have apparently changed- a pathetic, self-pitting fool. " she seethed, her voice barely above a whisper . “And I want nothing to do with you.” Withiout giving him time to add something or leave himself, Amani turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Vincenzo alone with his thoughts.
Her father was right, her father is always right, even when she did not want him to be She muttered, about to leave to her room.
[౨ৎ]
With Aurora
As Amani made her way toward her destination, her steps were abruptly halted by a woman with bright orange hair and a white dress stepping in front of her. Carrot top, Amani thought, recognizing Aurora Dear, the headmaster’s only living and breathing sperm—unless, of course, Adrian had other children no one knew about. Regardless, Amani had no time to exchange pleasantries or engage with the school’s favorite red-headed tomato. With a dismissive glance, she attempted to resume her steps, only to find Aurora feigning a stumble and intentionally spilling water on herself.
“Why” The red banshee screamed, drawing people in. “Why did you do that? What have I done to you?” Aurora continued, drawing in people.
Amani’s eyes narrowed, her Patience’s wearing thing, and she considered; walking away, but there was a crowd and it would just lead them into talking more. So with a calculated sigh, Amani shifted her demeanor, allowing a few fake tears to well up in her eyes. She glanced around, ensuring that the growing crowd was watching her closely before turning her gaze back to Aurora.
“I-I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this,” she said, her voice quivering with faux indignation. “You were about to pour that drink on me, but you tripped and spilled it on your own dress instead”. Amani continued, “Just like your father seemed to trip on his words when addressing North, incompetency and bluffing must run in the family,” Amani muttered the last part under her breath, not wanting to be overheard by the crowd or by Adrian if he happened to be nearby.
" I know we did not start on a good foot, Aurora” " Amani made sure to emphasize on her name, just in case anyone did not know who she was due to the mask (though her hair was an obvious give-away) with a soft tone.
“But I thought we were getting closer, especially after you told me about what really happened with M…” She let the sentence hang, a masterful stroke of leaving the accusation unsaid, yet implied.
Whatever game Aurora was playing, Amani was prepared to play along, even if she didn’t particularly want to participate. Hopefully, though,the game is short because Amani was tired of games for the day.