@bcrface
she’s sitting in her bed, approximately three hours since she sent the break up message and he left her on read. for the first hour, she kept checking the phone, seeing if he’s texted her - tried to call.. nothing. which of course, leaves her with this sinking feeling the moment all her guests leave --- when she’s alone again. can she be a lot to handle? more times than not. but she grew up in this big empty house, with maids and nannies - and to be fair, her mother’s approval had never been easily won. so she buried everyday human emotions with a little black credit card. did it make her shallow? probably. but it was hard - especially when you cared so fucking much about someone ---- you didn’t know how to handle it. standing to her feet, she grabs her blue designer trench-coat from closaet, wrapping it around silk pajamas and having her drive pull the car around. in a haste, she’s standing in front of the same wood-framed door, knocking on it with tear soaked eyes, rosy cheeks, and a huff of clouded breath thanks to the cold. when it opens, she starts blurting out her apology speech through sobs and a frantic tiny hug. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said those thing -- a-and i’m sorry you think you don’t mean more to me than some s-stupid party -- and i’m sorry for ditching you and --”
