Page 71 of The Loathing

“That bastard,” she grits, “honestly, I love your father I really do, but I also would love to wrap my fingers round his neck and ring him to death.”

I snort a laugh.

“You and me both. Why is he this way?” I ask, slumping down on the edge of my bed and sighing heavily.

“Your father is…”

“A dickhead?” I just about manage before a laugh bubbles out of me.

“Yes, that…” my mother walks back towards me and takes a seat next to me. “Your father is complex. He has had a lot of trauma and believe it or not, he isn’t very trusting.”

“Really?” sarcasm drips from my tongue and I smirk.

“Your father means well, Amora. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but he does. Everything he is doing…”

“Is for me, for the family… blah blah blah,” I make a childish tone, rolling my eyes.

“Amora.”

“I’m just fed up of you making excuses for him.”

And just by the look on my mother’s face I know I have upset her.

“I’m sorry… I just…”

“I know,” she sniffles, standing up then pretends to pick fluff off her cotton tee.

“Mum…” my voice breaks and she just gives me a smile.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” she turns, and I watch as she walks out the door but not closing it behind her.

I sigh, puffing out my cheeks as I flop down on my bed.

“Fuck,” I sigh, my eyes pinned to the ceiling as I count to ten in my head, my heart is racing, my mind swirling.

“You okay Twilight?” his voice crashes through me, his thick accent, the gruffness… I feel heat swarm between my legs, my stomach knotting and burning with a need.

“Fine,” I refuse to sit up, I refuse to look at him.

I am embarrassed and annoyingly, my cheeks burning with crimson give me away.

“Saying you’re fine is basically saying you’re not fine…”

I huff.

“I just wanted to come and check on you,” I hear his voice get closer to me, my heart beating a little faster, my skin erupting in goosebumps and I adore these new feelings.

“I told you I am fine.”

“You’re not fine” I roll my eyes.

“Why do you care?” I push up onto my elbows, my brows furrow. I don’t want to look at him, I will for my brain to not let me look at him, but my eyes betray me by devouring him whole. I will never get over just how handsome he is. The way he makes my heart sing. The way he makes my skin tingle in a way it never has before. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” I slice my eyes from him and flop back down onto the bed, ignoring the loud thumping in my ears.

“Do you think that’s my choice, Amora?” and the sound of my name rolling off his tongue has my body reacting in a way it never has before. Heat swarms me in an instant.

“Do you think this is what I want? To leave you? To leave you before I have even had a chance to get to know you? A chance to kiss you… touch you… before I have even had a chance to….”

He pauses and I feel my eyes begin to glass over, tears threatening, and I am scared to blink because when I do, my tears will escape and render me guilty for feeling anything more than a mutual friendship.

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