Clash

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This story contains adult languages.

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“Get out of here, Clash!” I felt heat on my face from rage.

“No, Sillo! I will not unless you answer my goddamn question!” My bedroom felt smaller and different with him inside. His head almost reached the ceiling and his well-built body gave color to my gray walls. His all-black mission gear with his black boots did really well on him. His stark blue eyes glimmered in the pale room. And it narrowed on me. And I hated it, I hated him.

“Your question is so damn nonsense!” I shouted back.

“Nowadays, you’re always mad, always bossy, always give a shit about small things and you act as if I don’t fucking exist! What. The. Hell. Is. Wrong. With. You?!”

I swing my right arm, but he caught it. He twirled it so my back was against his front. I didn’t struggle as I stomped his left foot hard and jabbed my right elbow in his ribs. He staggered back, and before I kicked him, he pushed me to the wall and held me firm. Tears began to form in my eyes as my thoughts drifted away from my last secret mission.

“Answer me, baby. Please.” His voice softened.

If he would just know. If he would find out that I assassinated his mother, without knowing it was her, he would look at me differently. I couldn’t claim that. It would destroy me. Numbing and creating a big bitch out of myself were the best plans I got.

“No.”

“Please, baby. Let me in.”

I looked at him. “Go fuck yourself, Clash. You stupid, little idiot.” I hissed.

Hurt masked his eyes as he recoiled. His jaw clenched and he looked at me first before he laugh bitterly. “Wow.” He shook his head lightly. “Guess you’re a big fucking mistake, Sillo.” He turned around and walked away.

That hurt her. Her visions began to fog and she felt herself weakening. She slid from the wall down to the floor and she wrapped her arms around her legs. She murmured, “I’m sorry” before she broke into a chain of uncontrollable sobs.

THE END

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