✧･ﾟ: * &. / 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳 ft. @venusljghts !
‘ — she’d spent that evening curled up in the bed of gianna’s spare bedroom — the one she’d claimed as hers, shown in the items of clothing and belongings she’d left there before what with being there so often — with tears in her eyes and the t a s t e of sawyer still present on her lips. saskia had hoped he would keep kissing her, and put a stop to the angst and putrid words spewing from their mouths, but much to her dismay he hadn’t; instead he’d hurtled more in her direction, his tune changing from ‘you know you want me, and i want you’ to ‘i don’t want to be with you anyway’. the visual of him wanting her to begin with was a little trophy of it’s own, one she’d treasured in her heart and thought about desperately as she’d fallen asleep ( kind of like a school girl with a crush, keeping herself awake by imagining play pretend scenarios in her head ) — and for him to flicker a switch to his desires so very quickly? it STUNG. for once, she’d had nothing to say whatsoever, words drying the second her eyes watered and thrusted back by the wavering hitch of a sob threatening to emit from her throat. saskia had said n o t h i n g, and simply went upstairs. she didn’t recall falling asleep, and could only remember clutching her childhood plush to her chest and sniffling through quiet cries. times like this reminded her of how sensitive she was, and how much she hated that about herself. she’d gone to work the next day like nothing had happened ( despite the obvious puffy eyes and pouty expression ), rollerblading through the diner and forcing smiles for the entirety of her shift. saskia decided she’d go home that night — to her REAL home, anyway, despite it not feeling like one. having to spend even another second tiptoeing on eggshells around sawyer, uncomfortably fourth wheeling with him and having to listen to maddox and gianna making out or arguing or exchanging dirty whispers on the settee seemed like something beyond torture. being the pushover that she is, her best friend had somehow roped her into at the very LEAST coming to the beach with them for the night; and whatever gianna wanted, gianna almost always got. it was a short walk from their shared street, and usually empty past 7pm — it was around midnight.
‘ — she’d trailed at the back of the pack and nobody had even noticed that she hadn’t said a word, stony faced and closed off to all forms of contact, and saskia put the blame easily onto sawyer. he’d been digging at her from the moment she’d gotten to the house, making sly comments at her expense and scoffing whenever she tried to speak; petty, childish behaviours that she’d just ignored in fear of setting alarm bells ringing to the others. how would they explain what was going on, or what had gone on? they c o u l d n ’ t. it didn’t help that they’d been drinking, sawyer having had a LOT too many in comparison to saskia, a handful of vodka and lemonades in and only just going past tipsy. she hadn’t wanted to drink but she was sad, and gianna had encouraged it ( or peer-pressured her, in other words ). she figured it was best to stay silent and get through the rest of her evening as smoothly and as damage-free as possible, minding her own business and sitting solemnly by herself seemingly the only option for her to NOT bite on her own tongue — the fact she’d been drinking might’ve made this a little difficult, but instead it pressed at the dull edge of her sadness and quietened her effort to be much more than n u m b. the second their shoes had touched sand, the oh-so-adoring ( but only when they wanted to be ) couple were launching themselves towards the ocean, kissing and grasping at each other in a way that said they were going skinny dipping, but also suggested they might get up to more. the brunette subconsciously rolls her eyes back, huffing out an ushered sigh as she turns on her heel to inch toward a large rock formation. she figured that here was as good a place as any to be alone and feel hidden ( or hide ), and maybe deter being alone with sawyer. she’d hoped that she wouldn’t have to see him ever again, before realising that if she wanted gianna in her life, she’d have to. how long would it be until things had settled — until it would feel like nothing at all had happened? until it was a glimmer of a memory? the idea of keeping a facade of false unity for any longer than a DAY seemed like stretching an eternity.
