𝘀𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹 𝘁𝗼 '𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿' book 2 of 3
on the outside, looking in, bianca prescott was back to who everyone knew her as- kook princess, island royalty, who couldn't give less of a fuck about the pogues like they were poo on her jimmy choo's.
b...
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
True to his words, JJ texted Bianca to ensure she reached home safely. Which she did, but she also couldn't bring herself to enter through the front door, having spent the better part of the night collecting herself in her car.
By the time she finally managed to tiptoe up to her room with tear-stained cheeks and blood-shot eyes, she didn't bother to change into pajamas. The girl merely curled up in her bed, drew the blanket over her head, and stared at her phone as if she could magically make it ring.
The hours passed, glints of amber peeking through the curtains and while her cries died down, the ache in Bianca's heart remained. She clutched at the material of JJ's hoodie and inhaled the scent of saltwater, weed, and old spice even if it was pathetic of her to do so.
It hurt. Everything hurt. Like her body was trying to compensate for the sting of JJ's rejection. He was gone, but the memories kept her awake, a baleful reminder of how once again, she wasn't good enough.
She missed him. And that made everything a million times worse because every time her phone lit up with a notification, it would get her hopes up that it was him, but it never was. Her fingers would inch towards it, prepared to tell him that she was sorry and that she hated fighting with him, but pride got the better of her every time.
Eventually, the tears stopped but what came after was worse. What came after was nothing— a sort of deafening emptiness that hollowed away at her insides. The silence was broken only in the early hours of the morning by Reginald's voice from the kitchen, "Miss Prescott! You have a visitor!"
Bianca swallowed thickly, she hadn't even heard the doorbell ring or the front door open. Nevertheless, she shouted back a hoarse, "Tell them I'm dead!" In response from under the sheets.
Moments later, her bedroom door flew open and Bianca groaned, sinking further into the blankets. She hoped whoever waltzed in like they practically owned the place (which could only be one person in particular) would leave her alone. The mattress sunk but Bianca ignored it, curling further into herself.
"Hey, B," A voice mumbled softly, reaching for the edge of her comforter. "Can I get you anything?"
"A gun," Bianca sniffled as the sheets were pulled away to reveal Sarah staring down at her.
One look at the bloodshot stain of her best friend's eyes and splotchy cheeks after crying all night made the blonde melt immediately. She sighed, brushing some of the dark strands away from Bianca's cheeks, "It's always the J's, isn't it?" She didn't have to explain for Sarah to already know what was wrong.
