COMPLETED - Ezra Miller is the charming ice hockey goalie of every girl's dreams, Sophia Olson a prima ballerina with a feisty mouth and the most flirty spirit. It's no surprise that when these two meet at a bar, sparks fly. It's a simple agreement:...
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There's a certain silence ringing in my ear. The absence of words my heart needs to hear to survive this, to confront the woman who definitely never taught me anything about that exact mash of letters.
Love...
I'm in love with Sophia Olson, and I never thought I'd say it out loud.
I kind of just did.
Here I am wishing I didn't, because she's about to see all my ugly.
"Are you sure you want to come in?" I tilt my head to her, not a hint of hesitation on her face.
"I'm not letting you do this alone." She whispers while bumping into my shoulder, our feet moving in sync towards the house I grew up in. The same front door, that holds memories of me leaving it all behind, is looking at me and daring me to walk right back into that mess. "Point out Rémy's room to me, I'll grab his stuff while you do whatever you need to do." Sophia's voice is soothing, yet it can't stop the painful throbs in my chest. It's anger I feel, yet what I am is scared.
Terrified.
"Just promise me to stay close to me, I don't know what that excuse of a douche is capable of. I don't want you to get hurt." I whisper, throwing a hand through my hair before knocking on the door. It takes a few moments before the door hinges open just a bit, yet my foot makes sure it can't ever shut. A heavy hand pushes at the wood, until the door flies completely open.
"Ezra." My mother whimpers, and she hasn't changed a bit. She looks rough, broken, and completely out of it. "What are you doing here." She mumbles with a tired voice.
"We're grabbing Mill's stuff." I tell her harshly while grabbing Sophia's hand and making sure she's safe.
The fuck this place is even worse than before.
I tell myself when I look around, ready to use substances on the coffee table, while the place is cluttered and dirty, the smell, yeah let's not talk about the smell.
"Who the hell are you." The supposed boyfriend makes an entrance when he stumbles out of the kitchen, giving both of us a nasty once over.
"We're none of your business." I snap at him, and taking in the sight of his bruised hands and knuckles almost makes me lose it. "Just in and out grabbing my brother's stuff." I say calmly, only the result of Sophia's thumb rubbing the back of my hand.
"So, you're the other loser you're mom accidently produced."
Sure.
I scoff, yet I can't disagree. "Taking the words right out of my mouth, because that's by far the only thing she ever did... Produce." I grit trough my teeth, while watching my mom stand by the filthy alcohol smelling swine.
"You ungrateful shit! Don't talk about your mother like that!" She suddenly raises her voice. "I did everything for you! Everything!" She's fully screaming while Sophia's hand is squeezing mine harder and harder.
