He called me doll, and he played me like a toy.
❀
"I'm hungry," He had uttered, attempting to sit up from our position cuddled together on the couch. The sound of heavy rain pounded against the transparent windows, a chaotic contrast to the calmness that reigned inside the living room.
"There's leftovers in the fridge," I mumbled, eyes glued to tv. But, he had always had a need for attention, so he had gently titled my chin until my eyes met his.
"I want something warm," he paused to give me a soft smile. "Can you cook us something, doll?"
I opened my mouth to tell him I didn't like being called that or that I wasn't a doll. But he pressed his lips onto mine and silenced my voice.
I stood after he pulled away, went to the kitchen and cooked him some food.
❀
But I should have known two toys were better than one.
×
A/n
Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it.
