nika muhl, cameron brink, paige bueckers, and honestly, anybody.
out cold - n.m.
w - turning page - n.m.
to the pros - a.f.
all about me! · · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
My name is Shannon, I am seventeen and I am from Washington! I currently write on wattpad as well, and I have for about five years (under the same name). I have started publishing all of my Tumblr writing on there, along with other stories too! I love cats, my favorite day is Sunday, and I have been playing basketball since I was six.
She teaches you how to shoot properly, adjusting you until itâs perfect.
content warnings - nothing! happy yay!
wc-575
âCâmon, baby,â she giggles, tugging your arm with a pleading look on her face. âItâll be fun! Thereâs no pressure with it.â
You couldnât help but smile up at her, your teeth peeking through your lips as you thought.
You had never been big into basketball until you met Azzi, and honestly, you still werenât. You had never played before, never even touched a ball, but something in the way she looked at you made you agree.
Maybe it was her dark eyes or the way her brown curls framed her face. Maybe was the soft tug at the corner of her lips.
You didnât know what it was, but before you could process anything, she was already dragging you to the practice courts.
You had a rough, orange ball in your hands, which was an unfamiliar feeling.
She nods at you, an amused expression covering her face. âDribble it?â
You blink, nodding slowly. The ball bounced off the ground and right back up to your hands, again and again.
âSee?â She says softly, shrugging casually. âThatâs practically the whole sport.â
âOh, really?â you laugh out, shaking your head with a wide smile.
âYeah, reallyâŠâ She nods, walking closer. âNow you just gotta shoot.â
âAnd howâŠâ you mutter, looking at the ball in your hands and up at the net. âHow do I do that?â
âYou justâŠâ she tries to adjust your arms, but fails. âNo, thatâs notâ okay.â
Azzi walks behind you, arms wrapping around as she grabbed the ball.
Her hands sat on top of your own, her much larger. You could feel the muscles in her arm tense as the pressed up against you.
Her chin rested inches above your head, towering above you in height.
She drags a hand, bringing yours with it. âThis one goes hereâŠâ
âNow all you gotta doâŠâ she says quietly, stepping backwards. âIs shoot.â
You nod, swallowing. It was hard to focus when all you could think of was missing the feeling of her against you.
You shook for head, looking at the hoop. A focused look plastered your face, lips pressed together in pure concentration. You toss the ball forwards and up.
The ball hits the orange rim, bouncing off to the side.
âAlrightâŠâ she says softly, jogging after the ball. She stands there, holding it out to you again. âYou remember?â
You blink softly, shaking your head ânoâ.
The truth is, you did remember. You actually remembered quite well, but she looked so sweet when she explained it.
And honestly, who could blame you for wanting her pressed again you again?
She stood behind you again, moving yours hands until they were perfect. This time, when she let go, she pointed up at the hoop. âLook at that little box when you shoot.â
You nod, pressing your lips together, focused. She took a step backwards, looking at you sweetly.
You bent your knees slightly, tossing the ball from your hands and up at the hoop.
The orange ball swooshed into the net.
A laugh escaped your lips and you turned to look at her, âI did it!â
She smiled, âGood job, baby!â
She grabbed you tight, your feet lifting off the ground as she twirled you in a circle.
âSend me to the pros!â you giggle, kicking your air born feet.
Azure laughs, placing your feet on the ground and shaking her head in amusement, âDonât get ahead of yourself.â
··â·â¶Â·â·· requests are always open! ··â·â¶Â·â··
sheâs never had trouble hurting or killing anybody, especially if it means she wins, so why is it so difficult now?
content warnings - mentions of death, blood, and swearing!
wc-925
Getting your name drawn at the reaping was not part of your bucket list.
Being ripped from your family and forced to perform and dress up for the entirety of Panem was not on your bucket list.
Being thrown in an arena to fight other kids to the death was not on your bucket list.
And nowâespecially right nowâhaving a arrow pointed at your head was not included on your bucket list.
You were a child of district one, instantly shoving you into the career pack.
It felt good to be in with the strong onesâto be feared by the other tributes and adored by the capitalâbut nothing felt as good as going home from a reaping and sleeping in your own bed.
Marvel, the boy from your district, was killed by a girl from twelve. He was shot in the neck, choking on his own blood after stabbing a young girl named Rue.
Cato had been killed by her as well after she knocked a tracker-jacker nest over him. The skin on his faced greened and bubbled, before he shook and dropped.
You and Clove had snagged the boy from twelve in hopes that he would help you kill her, in which he agreed.
The second he broke any trust, Clove slit his throat in his sleep. Hesitation didnât even graze over her face.
That let you to this moment, standing atop the cornucopia, rabid wolves underneath you.
They werenât regular creatures, but mutts created by the capital. They had the eyes of the dead tributes, their fur the same colour as their hair.
You couldâve sworn the girl you had killed was the mutt snapping angrily at your feet.
They had trained you for this moment, yet you were frozen, completely still.
Clove had pulled you onto your feet and away from the mutts, but there she was. Twelve. Katniss Everdeen. And now, she stood across the metal cornucopia, the string on her bow pulled tension across an arrow.
Clove stared at her, then back at you. Her eyes looked blank, but you could tell she was thinking.
Clove opened her mouth slowly, words spilling out quietly. âIf you shoot her, I will make sure you donât walk away from here alive.â
She sounded so calm. So scary. So intense. It pulled a knot in your stomach.
Katniss didnât respond, just pulled the arrow further back.
Just as you took a breatheâ
âClove moved.
A small dagger flew through the air, and just as you braced yourself to be hit with an arrow, your legs fell from under your body.
Your back hit the silver metal of the cornucopia, and after a second of lying in shock, a cannon rang out.
You flinched at the sound, the same one you had heard twenty one times since you entered the arena, and now twenty two.
Clove was a quick thinker, so incredibly smart.
She had thrown her knife at Katniss, and as the girl from twelve was hit square in the forehead and dropped her bow, she kicked your legs from underneath yourself.
The arrow flew over your head, missing you completely.
Katniss was dead, lying on the metal with her head split fully open, blood already flowing down the metal.
One of the mutts had started to lick it from the shiny material.
Clove looked down at your heart jumped out of your chest, your stomach sinking down.
She frowned at you and you scrambled backwards, shaking her head.
You reached for your knife, pulling it out of your boot.
By the time you were grasping the metal handle, her foot was already stopped on your wrist, leaving you helpless as the knife flung from your hand.
âCloveââ you yelped out.
She knelt over you, holding you down as you tried to fight back, thrashing against her.
She held a dagger tightly to your throat, her eyes glancing over the blade and back up to your face.
âGot anything to say before IâŠâ she looked away from your eyes, her throat bobbing. ââŠbefore I kill you?â
âNoââ you scratch out, body going limp under her. There was no point of fighting it. âJust get it done quick?â
Clove nodded, her messy bubble braid falling over her shoulder, âYou were my favoriteâŠâ
Her voice got quieter the longer she spoke.
âDonât tell Cato when you see him, alright?â She said, tightening her grip on the knife.
You smile softly, âI wonât.â
You couldnât believe you were smiling. You figured you would die scared, but you felt at peace. Maybe there was no point of surviving if all you could see was the faces of the other tributes when you try to sleep at night.
She sniffles, shaking her head and pulling away from you.
âIâ I canât do itâŠâ she whispers, âI canât.â
You stare at her sadly, âYou donât have a choice.â
âI donât know howâŠâ she said quietly, taking a step back towards you. âI donât want you to die scared.â
âIâm not scared, Clove.â
She leaned over you again, straddling over your waist. She grabbed your face with one hand, leaning her forehead against yours.
You let out a shaky breath, eyes flickering down to her lips as she leaned in.
After a second of her lips pressing against yours, you felt a sharp pang in your stomach.
âIâm sorryâŠâ Clove whispered. âIâm so sorryâŠâ
She dropped the knife as you went limp in her arms, the cannon ringing out. She was alone in the arena.
··â·â¶Â·â·· requests are always open! ··â·â¶Â·â··
You get hurt during a big game, and Nika is the first person at your side.
content warnings - sports injury, no happy ending, sad, sad, sad, and more sad.
wc-992
The stadium around the court was huge, big lights flared over your head, the buzzer kept sounding, and no matter what, you couldnât get yourself to think straight.
You glanced at Nika from across the court, her eyes dark and focused. She nodded at you, looking back to the ref.
Sweat dripped down your forehead, your dark blue huskies jersey damp.
Maybe the loudness of the crowd was getting in your head, or the fact that this was the biggest game of your college career, but the entire world was spinning around you.
Every single play was fast and well thought out.
It felt like your arms were dragging your entire body down. It felt like your legs had run out from under your body.
You refused to acknowledge it.
UConn needed you to pull it together. Your team needed you to pull it together. This was bigger than you.
It was the fourth quarter, and the two teams had been no more than four points apart the entire game. There was not a single second to think or breathe. Not a single second to rest.
Maybe it would be easier to function if your ears werenât ringing loudly, the sound jumping around inside your skull.
Your body was exhausted, and the faster you tried to run, the slower you went.
It felt like your legs were glued to the floor.
You took another step and suddenly, the whole world went quiet.
The sounds of the crowd faded out and you blinked slowly, a weird feeling pulling over your body.
You tried the walk again but the room spun, black dots flying around.
It wasnât time for your body to fail you. There was ten thousand people sitting, watching. The ball had just started to move again.
You let out a shallow breath, walking forwards again. There was nothing under your feet, it was as if the court had disappeared completely.
Until you hit it, hard.
You donât remember falling, or hitting your head, or the sound of gasps from the crowd. You donât remember the sound of the whistle stopping the play, or your coach shouting.
You just lied there on your side, unconscious.
For three seconds, nothing happened. Nobody moved. Nothing changed.
Then Nika gasped, running to you, standing over you.
She knelt down by your head, brushing the flyaway hairs that escaped your ponytail out of your face.
âHeyââ she whispered, her voice scared and shaking. She looked up at Geno, eyes full of fear. âWhat wrong with her?â
Geno knelt next to the girl, placing a hand on her back. He shook his head, looking around as the medics ran over.
He stood, bringing Nika up with him. The medics filled their spots instantly. âGo to the bench. Drink some water. Sheâs okay.â
âCoachââ she said, eyes wide as she looked down at you. âI canât justâŠâ
âNika.â He said, rubbing her arm softly. âShe is okay. They are taking care of her. Go take care of yourself.â
She didnât know what to say. There was no way she could convince him to let her stay.
She just nodded blankly, walking away slowly.
They held your neck stable, rolling you onto your back. Fingers pressed against your pulse points. They shouted your name over you, hoping you would wake up.
Your legs were lifted up in hopes that blood would reach your head and wake you up.
Minutes later, you blink awake.
Confusion was plastered on your face as you looked up at all the people you didnât know. You tried to speak, but your voice felt oddly quiet.
All you could think about was the pain in your head. It hurt so bad that it made you nauseous.
Somebody next to you was trying to speak, but you couldnât focus on their words.
There were people adjusting your entire body and holding things to it. All you wanted was for them to go away, but they wouldnât, not when you were on the ground like this.
âWhereâŠâ you whisper, gasping for air. Tears start to pool in the corners of your eyes. âNikaâ where is she?â
You try to lift your head and look around for her, but you were too weak. You couldnât feel your fingers now, and the pain in your head was starting to float away.
Geno knelt over you, rubbing your shoulder gently. âNika was over here, I sent her to go get water.â
âI needââ you gasp, lips trembling.
He nodded, understanding completely. âIâll go get her, okay?â
You sigh, tears spilling down your face at a more drastic rate.
God, this was embarrassing. Thereâs so many people here to watch basketball, and they were watching you lay on the floor. There was so many people staring down at you.
Your pained expression softens as a figure appears over you. She was blurry through the tears sitting in your eyes, but you could recognize her face anywhere.
Nika knelt next to your head, wiping tears off of your cheeks. She breathed out shakily, talking in a soft voice. âHey⊠youâre okayâŠâ
âI canâtâŠâ you whisper, scared, blinking up at her. âI canât moveâŠâ
She looks at the medics with a scared expression, and one of the leans over and rubs her arm gently.
She sniffles, a single tear rolling down her left cheek. âI know, honey. Itâs okay.â
âAm Iââ you cough out, but she cuts you off.
âYouâre not dying.â
A stretcher gets wheeled over and lowered down to the floor, the bright reds and yellows contrasting against the shiny, wooden, court flooring.
âTheyâre gonna move you, okay?â She says softly, wiping the tears from your face. âI love you⊠Iâll see you as soon as I can.â
You open your mouth to respond, but only a soft cry comes out as you watch her stand up and back away slowly.
Thatâs the last thing you remember before blacking out again.
··â·â¶Â·â·· requests are always open! ··â·â¶Â·â··
She comes home from hunting Abby and finds out that youâre still at the farm, waiting for her. Not only was she home again, but she came back so much wiser.
wc-695
Ellie had left you on the farmâalone and angryâalmost five months ago.
You told her if she walked out that front door, there would be nothing left for her here anymore. You thought that would make her stay. It didnât.
Your mind couldnât comprehend the fact that she had left everything to go kill a girl. She chose anger over you and and left everything you had built together.
You tried to move on. You tried to start a new routine on the farm, but no matter what, you just found yourself thinking about her.
The mornings you spent laughing over cups of coffee at the dining table.
The days you spent in the farm, sun beading down above your heads.
The nights you spent smoking on the porch, talking about your childhoods and different upbringings.
The worst part of her leaving is that you didnât know if she would ever come back.
You told her she wasnât allowed to come home, but she was never keen on listening to you.
She would come back to the farm and life would go back to normal, right? You wish you knew.
You didnât even know if she was alive, nevermind willing to come home after.
All you wanted was Ellie back in your arms.
So when she walked up the field and stood at the bottom of the small hill where your house sat, you couldnât help but smile.
Her hair was shorter than when she left, the auburn locks cut closely to her neck. She wore a dirty flannel top, the sleeves rolled up around her arms. Her jeans were brown with dirt and her bag hung loosely over her shoulders.
She looked horrible.
She started walking up the hill without saying a word, before breaking into a jog until she reached you.
She stood in front of you, body skinny and beaten up, her green eyes looking away sadly. âI know you said i wasnât allowed backâŠâ
âElsââ Your voice cracked as you spoke. âI donâtâŠâ
âIâm sorry⊠Iâm so sorryâŠâ she mumbled, wrapping her arms tightly around you. Her fingers traced small circles on your back, one of her hands raking messily through your hair.
She cupped your face, looking at you with saddened eyes, âI shouldnât have⊠I was so wrongââ
You sniffled as you looked at her faceâeyes scanning over the freckles that you hadnât seen in monthsâunable to get any words out of your mouth.
All you could do was left out a soft sob, your lips pressing together as you looked down.
âIâm back, okay?â she whispered gently. âIâm staying this time, no matter what.â
She held your face gently in her rough and calloused hands, holding your chin up to her, âLook at me, please.â
âI know I was wrong, and I let you downâŠâ she started, shaking her head. âNot a single day went by where I didnât regret leaving you.â
âYouâre still the one I think of every morning when I wake up, and every night before i sleep,â she said quietly, lips trembling.
You couldnât get any words out of your lips, but the look in your eyes told her enough.
âDid⊠did you find her?â you croak out, barely audible.
âI found her, I justâŠâ Ellie looked down at her feet, âI didnât kill her.â
She rubbed your arms gently, her finger tips running gently over your skin.
âI was so close, and I had her. She was practically dead,â she said softly. âBut there was this boy.â
You nod, eyes filling with confusion.
âHe trusted her, and she wouldâve done anything for him.â She mumbled. âThat boy was who I used to be.
âIf I killed Abby, and took away who that boy loved, I would be just as bad as her.â
âShe killed my Joel, and it killed me.â Ellie said gently, âSo I will not kill his Abby and hurt him.â
You look at her deeply, trying to figure out what she meant, before smiling gently in realization, âYou came back a whole lot smarter, Ellie.â
âYeah?â she said quietly, her voice shaking. âIâm not leaving again. I donât need revenge anymore. Just you.â
··â·â¶Â·â·· requests are always open! ··â·â¶Â·â··
You get hurt on patrol, and Ellie goes dead silentâthe kind of quiet that means sheâs furious and terrified at the same time.
wc-1504
The air on the roof is warmer than you expected.
It wasnât warm outside, mainly because it was October and winter was coming. Still, it had the kind of sun-soaked heat that seeped through old tar and cracked shingles, enough to take the edge off the wind.
It felt almost normal up there. Quiet and safe in a way nothing else outside Jackson ever really is.
Ellie sat a few feet away from you, legs stretched out with one knee bent, her boot tapping idly against the roof. Her rifle rested beside her, within reach but forgotten for the moment.
âYouâre cheating,â you say, narrowing your eyes at her.
She snorts, not even looking at you. âIâm not cheating. Youâre just bad.â
You scoff, looking at her harshly. âEllieââ
âYou missed twice,â she shrugged, throwing another rock.
Your eyes widen at your girlfriend, hitting her playfully. âOnly because you distracted me!â
She finally glances over, eyebrow raised, the corner of her mouth twitching. âOh yeah? How?â
âYou kept talking.â
âThatâs not distracting, thatâs called multitasking.â
âThatâs called being annoying.â
She grins at that, her smile quick, sharp, and familiar. âYou love it.â
You roll your eyes, but you canât help the small smile pulling at your lips. The air feels lighter like this. Just the two of you, no immediate danger, no pressure, just something that almost feels normal.
All you could think about is if this is what it felt to be normal, before everything happened.
âWhatever,â you mutter, leaning back on your hands. âNext time Iâm not letting you pick the rules.â
âThere wonât be a next time. I already won,â she smirks, looking away.
âYou didnât winââ
âYou literally missed the can from ten feet away.â
âIt was windy!â you exclaim.
Ellie laughs, an actual laugh with her head tipping back slightly, the sound cutting clean through the quiet. It hits you harder than it should. You donât hear that version of her often. Not out here.
Not anywhere, really.
Youâre about to say something elseâsomething equally stupidâwhen it happens.
At first, itâs just a sound. A sharp, clicking noise that sounded far, but you were so so wrong.
Your stomach drops before your brain catches up. Ellie hears it at the exact same time and her entire body goes still.
The shift in the air around you is instant.
The clicker bursts onto the roof from the stairwell behind you, itâs running fast and erratic. The infectedâs head twitched, its mouth split open into that awful, clicking screech that echoes across the rooftop.
It starts running straight toward you and you pull your gun out in front of yourself, cocking it. You're reacting purely on instinct.
You step back, fast, trying to put distance between you and the infected when your foot hits a piece of loose concrete from the edge.
It slides and thereâs a split second where your balance is gone, leaving you with no control and no recovery.
You feel it before it happens. The drop in your stomach and the way your body tilts too far back, before you gasp out, âShitâ!â
The edge of the roof disappears beneath your heel, and then youâre falling.
Everything happens too fast and too slow at the same time.
The sky flashes above you, bright and endless for a fraction of a second, then the building rushes past in a blur of cracked brick and broken windows.
Thereâs a gunshot, loud and deafening, echoing somewhere above you, and then, all you could feel was impact.
It knocks the breath out of you completely.
Your back hits first, hard enough that your vision explodes white for a second, pain slamming through your body all at once. Your head snaps back against the ground, your limbs going numb for half a second before everything comes rushing back in sharp, overwhelming waves.
You try to breathe, but nothing happens. Your lungs refuse. Your chest spasms uselessly, a broken, choking sound tearing out of your throat as panic spikes instantly.
You canât move and honestly, you donât want to move. Fear locks you in place, heavier than the pain, heavier than anything else.
Your breath finally comes back in a harsh, ragged gasp that burns all the way down.
âFuckââ you choke, voice shaking, barely recognizable.
Your whole body aches. Every inch of you feels wrong. Your arms feel too heavy. Your legs are too light. There's so much pain.
You donât try to sit up. You donât even try to turn your head.
You just lie there, staring up at the sky, heart pounding so hard it feels like it might crack your ribs from the inside.
There was silence in the air, then footsteps.
Fast. Too fast.
Your heart lurches again, panic spiking, but then sheâs there.
Ellie.
She drops to her knees beside you so hard it almost sounds like another impact.
She doesnât say your name. She doesnât say anything at all.
Her hands are on you immediately, grabbing your jacket, your shoulders, not rough but urgent, grounding. She looks you over fast, eyes moving over your face, your neck, your chest, like sheâs checking for something she doesnât want to find.
You try to speak, voice rough and panicked, âEllieââ
âDonât,â Her single word comes out quiet. Flat. It shuts you up instantly.
Her hands move again, more controlled now. One slides carefully to the side of your neck, fingers pressing lightly, checking. The other hovers over your ribs, hesitating for the smallest fraction of a second before pressing down gently.
Pain flared through your entire chest and stomach, white flashing over your vision. It was sharp enough that a broken sound escapes you before you can stop it.
Her hand stills with a tiny pause again, then she adjusts. Lighter, slower, more precise.
Her jaw clenches.
You can see it now, this close.
Every muscle in her face pulled tight, controlled, like sheâs holding something back with everything she has.
âIâm okay,â you manage, voice thin, uneven.
She doesnât respond, and doesnât even look at your face.
Her focus stays on your body, her hands moving carefully, methodically, almost as if she was a robot as she checks your arms, your sides, and your legs. Every movement is deliberate, practiced, but thereâs something underneath it now.
Something tighter.
Your breathing stutters again, not from the pain this time, but from her. From the silence in the air as she stared down at you.
âEllie,â you try again, softer.
Nothing.
Her hand slides under your arm, testing, and you flinch when she shifts your weight even slightly.
She stops immediately, her body completely still for half a second.
Just then, her head lifts and her eyes meet yours.
It hits you all over again, the painful feeling, panting at your heart now too.
Sheâs scared. Not the loud kind where you run and cry, but not panic either.
This is worse.
Her expression is almost empty, too controlled and too still, but her eyes give it away. The green was dark and sharp, locked onto you like if she looks away for even a second, something bad will happen.
Something worse than what already did.
âYou hit your head?â she asks.
Itâs the first thing sheâs said since she got to you. Her voice is low. Tight.
You blink, trying to focus. âIâI donât think so.â
She watches you for another second, searching your face like sheâs not sure if she believes you. Then her gaze drops again.
Her hand presses lightly against your ribs once more.
You hiss.
ââŠFuck,â she mutters under her breath in a tone that was barely audible.
Her fingers curl slightly against your jacket, like sheâs resisting the urge to press harder, to check more, to do something, anything.
âI can move,â you say quickly, even though you havenât tried. âI justâjust need a second.â
âDonât.â
There it is again. Quieter this time, but sharper.
You swallow, nodding without meaning to.
Ellie exhales slowly through her nose, like sheâs forcing herself to stay calm.
Her hands shift again, one sliding behind your back, careful and supporting, the other bracing your side without putting pressure where it hurts most.
âLook at me,â she says.
You do.
Her soft green eyes are locked onto yours immediately.
âStay with me,â she adds.
You blink. âIâmâEllie, Iâm right here.â
âI know,â she says quickly. Too quickly.
Her grip tightens slightly. âJustâstay.â
Something in your chest twists at that. You nod again. âIâm not going anywhere.â
Her jaw tightens.
She doesnât say anything to that, but she doesnât look away either. Not even for a second.
The world feels quieter like this. Smaller. Like itâs just the two of you and nothing else exists beyond this moment.
Ellie shifts slightly, adjusting her hold on you.
âWeâre getting up,â she says after a second. It wasnât a question.
Your stomach drops a little at that, but you nod anyway. âOkay.â
âSlow,â she adds.
You almost smile at that. Almost.
··â·â¶Â·â·· requests are always open! ··â·â¶Â·â··
content warnings - homophobic slurs, mentions of fighting.
Natalie shows up at your door in the middle of the night, bleeding and shaking, and refuses to tell you what happenedâbut she wonât let go of your hand either.
wc-998
Natalie had sworn on everything she had ever known that she wouldn't look you in the eyes after everythingâshe was so mean and the breakup was messyâespecially not show up to your apartment at two in the morning.
Your mother was asleep on the couch, a dull lamp flickering on the end table next to her. A cigarette hung between her fingers, but the charred paper was no longer lit and had been out for hours.
Your fathers shift at work started at seven p.m. and wouldn't be back until early morning.
The only sound in the apartment was the faint sound of tapping from the clock on the kitchen wall and the dull sound of music from your CD player, the volume dial already on the lowest option.
The three soft knocks sounded loud in the near silent environment, the wooden sound instantly catching your attention.
This was the last place Natalie thought she would end up that night.
She was the one who broke up with you last month, saying horrible things as she slurred her words. She refused to acknowledge you the next day, and that had been it.
You had never been called a faggot beforeâespecially not by somebody you were datingâbefore you fought with her that night.
You had hoped that she would come to her senses when the drugs ran out of her system, but when she woke up the next morning, you were nothing but wrong.
You tugged the front door open quietly, staring at her, confusion knit over your face.
Blood trickled down her neck, dried and crackling. Her lip was split. Purple started to spread across her face, the colour exploding from her left temple.
Her hands shook, blood covering her split knuckles, red covering her fingers too.
Her lips trembled and she opened her voice to talk, but no words came out. She couldn't figure out how to look you in the eyes.
You stared at her, reaching out gently but stopping yourself.
You took a breath, dropping your hand to your side and speaking instead. "Natalie?"
She didn't answer, but you saw her shoulders shake as she let out a soft sob that she had really tried to keep inside.
"Nat...?" You whispered, pulling her inside softly, and shutting the door behind her. "Hey, what happened?
She looked up with wide eyes, tears beginning to roll down her face. Her blonde hair was messy and mascara smudged.
Your hand falls upon her waist, then down to her hand, guiding her out of the entryway and towards your bedroom. She already knows the way. She's been down that hallway a hundred times. She climbed through that window and slept in that bed many times, too.â
She falls behind as you open the door, walking inside slowly before turning away from your face.
She didn't know what she should say. Maybe a "thank you" for letting her in or "sorry" for cutting things off the way she did, but she couldn't get those words out.
Instead, she choked out that "someone found out."
You shake your head nervously, pressing your lips together anxiously, "What do you mean?"
Natalie looks up at you with sad eyes, sniffling as she talks quietly. "Said that you... I don't even wanna say it-"
"Nat," you whisper gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What's going on?"
She shook her head, "Told me they knew I was a lesbian... but, they.."
Her blue eyes glistened with anger before sadness overwhelmed them again.
"They said I turned you into a faggot." She said quietly, in a tone that was barely audible. "Said I ruined you... I don't even know how they know about it-"
You felt your heart drop to your feet.
Natalie watched your expression change from worry, to pain, to anger and then finally to sadness, all in the span of ten seconds.
You opened your lips to talk, but couldn't figure out what to say. All you could feel was the tears burning in the corners of your eyes.
You look away briefly, eyes falling back onto your ex girlfriend.
Your sight trails down to her hand, still clutched onto your fingers tightly. Even if you let go, she was still grasping on like it was her only lifeline. "Why are you bloody?"
She let out another sob, her small frame shaking even more violently. "I got so madâ I don't... they called you that and it made me so mad.."
"Natalie," you mutter softly, squeezing her hand gently.
"I called you that because I was mad.." she said, wiping tears away from her face. "I called you that and left you, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
You cry softly, a single tear rolling down your cheek.
"Please just... look at me, please.." she pleads, her usually serious and emotionless face showing fear and sadness for the first time in months.
"I'm so sorry. This last month-" Her voice cracked, a small sob escaping her lips. "I missed you so fucking bad...
You let out a soft cry, tears welling into your eyes as you look at her pale face, scared and sad.
"Nat- I.." You start, shaking your head before you stop yourself. "I thought you hated me."
"No," she said quickly, her eyes wide. "No, I never hated you. I could never hate you."
She sniffles, looking down at the ground as she speaks, quieter now. "I hated myself because I thought I ruined you."
"You never ruined me," you say gently, squeezing her hand in yours.
She looks at you softly, eyes glossy with tears and lips trembling.
You reach up for her, your hand wrapping around the back of her neck as you pull her close, your head falling onto her chest.
And that's how you stand. Two o'clock in the morning in your bedroom, arms wrapped around each other so tightly.
She speaks once more, soft and barely audible, "I love you so much."
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