He looks so deadly serious, delivering another wound to my soul and I break down properly. Heart-
wrenching with how bad this can feel, how bad his rejections always affect me, and I start to cry
painfully. Like a wounded child who doesn’t care if anyone sees her. Arrick moves towards me as tears
make their way down my face, his own face crumbling at the sight of them, and losing all resolve.
“Stop crying, Mimmo, you know I hate seeing you cry.” His voice breaks with emotion, reaching for me,
soft and tender, but I just slap his hands away aggressively. Full fury pouring out at his rejection, heart
bruised again and not in the mood to have any more of his touches, innocent or not. He just messes
me up.
“Go to hell.” I walk past him at speed, shoving him aside with a shoulder bump, determined to get away
from the source of my pain and head towards home. Arrick pauses for a moment, watches me, and
then follows me closely.
“Don’t be like this.” He starts walking behind me, matching my pace. I want him to leave me alone and
give me some space, to get control of this sea of emotions.
“Go away, I don’t like you anymore, and I wish to God I didn’t fucking love you.” I’m back in childish
mode, closing down and lashing out. Trying to walk faster to outrun him, but he has annoyingly long
legs and bigger steps, so keeping even with me is effortless for him.
“Sophabelle? Come on. You still have to come home with me tomorrow, so this is pointless. Stop and
talk to me.” He makes a grab for my wrist, but I try to twist my hand out of his grip immediately. Bristling
and not wanting him near.
“Why? So you can tell me how wrong it felt kissing me?” I snap, shoving off the fingers that try to hook
over my shoulder instead. Determined to fight him off.
“Goddammit, Sophie!” Arrick’s temper snaps too, his tone and anger stopping me as he grabs my
shoulders with both hands and hauls me back to him. He spins me to face him and I’m rendered silent
with the outburst.
“I wish it felt wrong! Maybe if it had then it would fix my own goddamn head and solve something. The
problem is it felt too fucking right. Is that what you want to hear? Because kissing you felt …” Arrick
trails off, confusion over his face, while I’m still crying quietly, madness dissipating fast and replaced
with complete sorrow and heartbreak at what he’s doing to me. I search his eyes but he’s closing down
on me, reverting to deadpan calm and reeling it all in.
“Felt what?” I almost beg him, face to face in the darkness. He keeps looking anywhere but at me,
avoiding my eyes, avoiding the way I am trying to focus on him while he tries to let this go. Grabbing
his wrists to get him to face me properly.
“This is exactly what we shouldn’t be doing ... This is what confuses things.” Arrick makes a move to
walk around me, but I step sideways, blocking him confrontationally and repeat my question, stopping
him. He gazes at me like I am physically causing him pain.
“Felt what?” I say it more forcefully, staring at his downcast face as he frowns at the grip I have on his
forearms. He frowns at me pleadingly, with a face that just begs me to leave this alone, but I can’t. I
need to know what he was going to say; it’s ripping my heart apart, and I want to know what the end of
his sentence was.
“Felt what?” I repeat firmly, tears trickling down my face hopelessly. Arrick drops his chin again, looking
down at his hands before he finally meets my eyes, completely lost.
“Felt like I was kissing the girl I should have been kissing all along… Happy? Because this solves
nothing, Sophs. Natasha is still going to be crushed, I’m still going to be an asshole who hurts someone
I care about, no matter what, or who, I choose. This will still be the complicated mess it was yesterday
and nothing, except my inability to not kiss you, will have changed.” Arrick sidesteps me. Dismissing
me so easily, despite everything he just said. “Go home and get changed, you’re freezing and soaked
through. You’re going to get sick.” He sounds so closed off and harsh, frosty, considering what he said
was pretty much admitting to wanting to be with me.
“You can’t just leave it like this.” I cry after him as he moves to cross the road toward his mom’s house.
“Yes, I can. This is not why we’re here and it can damn well wait until we get home. I told you that we
were not the priority.” He’s walking off, obviously trying to put distance between us and that age-old
anger crashes out impulsively.
“Fuck you. Walk away then, see if I fucking care!” I croak after him desperately, Arrick turns mid-stalk
across the street, throws me an angry look and turns back to keep walking.
“Grow up, Sophs. I’ll see you tomorrow. This isn’t happening so get used to it.” He ducks around the
side of the tall bushes out of sight as he hits his mother’s lawn, and I’m left standing alone, bubbling
with rage and heartbreak all intertwined, hating the receding figure of him. A million emotions rumble to
the surface; a mix of elation, heartbreak, and sheer furious rage, colliding into one heavy mess.
“Fuck you.” I mouth quietly under my breath, knowing he probably didn’t hear it but needing to say it
anyway. I turn and head up the street to my own long drive, tears still falling, yet my chin up and
stubborn determination on my face, that I won’t let him affect me anymore tonight.
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