the devil in miami • xxxtentacion

013

Hi my babiesss

(edited very loosely)

enjoyyy <3

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Nova

11:32 am

"you gon stop fucking playing with me." Robb snaps, pressing my chest with the tips of his fingers, making me stumble backwards.

"stop putting your hands on me." I say, pushing him back.

"you not wearing that shit.. dead ass." He finishes, throwing the outfit that I had picked out, across the room.

"AND STOP THROWING MY SHIT. " I scream at him, picking my stuff up off of the floor.

Robb is supposed to be at a day party for one of the artists he produces and first, he forcing me to come with him and now he's micro managing what I can wear. The party starts in 30 minutes and he is supposed to be there to help set up, but here we are....arguing about my outfit choices.

"you not putting that shit on... find something else" He says, putting his watch on his wrist.

"This is the fourth outfit that you hated, I'm not changing it again." I say,

I proceed to put on the all the black skin tight, short sleeved dress. It stopped about mid thigh and I paired it with a pair of the black low top Rick Owens that Robb had recently bought me. As soon as I said that, he turns around and just stares at me. Usually, when he would do that, I would go change just because he was intimidating but honestly I didn't care right about now.

"Nova." he says towards me.

I ignore him, fixing my shoes. I feel him walking towards me and I sit up again. As soon as I sit up, he grabs me by my dress trying to pull it over my head.

"fucking stop." I say pushing him off of me, fixing my clothes.

As soon as I stop talking, I feel his hands around my throat, squeezing tightly.

"I told you to stop playing with me." he starts, removing his hands from my throat "So find something else to wear and lets go." He finishes, turning around and walking away from me.

As soon as he turns around, I throw the closest thing that I can find, at his head which happened to be his phone.

"and I told you to stop putting your hands on me. I'm not changing" I say, standing up grabbing a purse and walking out of the room before he could say anything else to me.

Since he's gotten back from LA a couple weeks ago, we've been going at it non-stop.  Fist fighting, arguing. Like he has a problem with EVERYTHING. What I wear, where I go, who I see. He makes being sober so hard when I'm with him. But each time we fight, we make up 10x better each time. I know he cares about me and I think that's why we butt heads all the time.

I open my bag, pulling out my ol' faithful bag of pills. Doing what I do best, crushing and sniffing them. I wipe my nose while looking through the cabinets, taking out a bottle of Tequila pouring a shot into a glass and throwing it back. I lean against the counter, hearing him jog down the stairs. I watch him walk over to me, pouring himself a cup of liquor before walking out of the kitchen.

"Come on bro." he says, grabbing his keys.

*****

Robb grabs my hand, leading me to a secluded section in the club. I sit down on the couch as he walks away, leaving me alone. I cross my legs, unlocking my phone going to instagram posting a story of me in the club. I go to my notifications and click on random pictures that people are tagging me in. I click on the, liking some of them before going to my DMs, checking messages from people to see if they're important.