After breakfast, Ryle gives me a ride back to my apartment building. He gives me a few kisses and greets me a safe and good morning before he leaves. After he's taken off, I ascend to the third story and have a quick coffee. I shower in cold water to entirely wake myself up since I only had more or less six hours of slumber last night. It's Friday and thank God I'm able to spend more time with Mom at the hospital for I'll only work in the afternoon tomorrow at the art studio because of some extended repairing. I'm more than grateful, really, for what the Heavenly Father has blessed me with, especially Mom's hospital bills. Thanks to Ryle for it. Without him, I could've gone crazy in the streets in exhaustion of doing tens of sideline jobs.I dress in peach bush pants and a V-neck shirt of a darker shade. I do my hair into a neat bun and then wear a pair of sneakers. I shower myself with perfume before exiting the apartment building. I then get on my mountain bike and then p
I've spent a handsome time with Mom talking about whatever. She's been joyful and energetic the whole conversation, and I couldn't be happier about her 'new her' — her new self. It feels like her former self has come back and hasn't found its way back into existence yet at the same time. It's weird, yet it's so satisfying. I hope she ultimately gets well soon, so we can be together again in the apartment.She asks me everything she's curious about — what my condition is, my studies, my work, my physical and mental stability, and everything else. I even kind of get lost in her words. I'm just mesmerized by how she's changed. From frail to fleshy. From worried to joyful. O God, thank you for this. I couldn't be more grateful for this. I promise that I'll do great in life to pay You back at least . . . I guess.After bringing Mom her chosen evening snack and spending another couple of minutes talking with her, I finally say goodbye. She needs to rest for now. The skies outside are dusking
I put on my pajamas after taking a cold shower. I'm standing in front of the mirror and I can see from behind Ryle dressing up. I can't stop looking at his godly build, so when he looks at my reflection, I turn my gaze away, which I think he just mentally laughs at. I look again at him in the mirror, but he catches me at this moment. I don't turn away this time. I just witness him putting his shirt on, his muscular arms captivating my liking.He then steps forward and then puts his arms around my waist from behind. He kisses my neck, and I can't help but just silently feel good over his touch. "You're blushing, Stella," he says, getting me out of my delusions."No, I'm not," I deny, even though he's right. I look in the mirror and notice red spreading across my cheeks. I look down to get away from his teasing, but instead, something catches my attention — he has a tattoo on the side of his wrist. It's written in the Cyrillic alphabet, I'm sure of that since he's of
I wash the dishes as Ryle does vape on the balcony of the apartment. I didn't know he used vape, but at least it's less lethal than smoking. But still, it isn't healthy. I hope he's aware of that. Of course, he is. He's a totally grown man.After drying my hands, I check what Ryle is up to in this deafening silence. I head out of the kitchen and go to the balcony — he isn't there. I go to the living room. Not there either. Gosh. I hope he isn't in my room because God knows what I can do to him the time he lays a finger on my stuff, so I enter my room. But, he's still nowhere to be seen. Where could that guy be this time? He might be out for a walk. Or he's just abandoned me. Which is fine and better anyway. But I hate him for not talking to me before he left. He could've said a simple 'I'll leave now' or 'Bye,' at least. Whatever.I decide to take a seat in the living room. The sky has grown darker and thunderheads blanket over it exaggeratedly anyway so I think I
Morning rises fast. Birds' tweeting outside, which I'm sure are perching on the balcony, is music to my ears. What a great day to start with hearing. And something more melodic is noising around. Oh, yeah. Ryle. He's spooning me. His arm around my waist, his skin is so warm.I put my hand on the back of his, and it makes me jolly. This feels so perfect. At least I think it somewhat is. I haven't felt this for so long, a comfort from another person besides Mom. The last thing I felt this was a very long time ago, with Kent. Unfortunately. It isn't that I didn't have a good time with him. No. He was lovely. He was.I lie on my back and then turn my head to Ryle. He's in a deep slumber. I can't blame him. It's because of the early autumn breeze. And also because, I think, he has somebody that warms him. I don't say I'm the 'reason' though. He just appears in everlasting comfort right now.I can't stop looking at the entirety of his face. Roman nose shape. Thi
"I've got to go now, Mom," I say after we've talked for some hours straight. It's been all good. We've shared things we've experienced these past few days, and we both have enjoyed it. I'll never be tired of doing this again and again, the mother-daughter bonding. "It's dusking, and also, I have some canvases to buy for the art studio. Our co-manager said we've just run out of them some minutes ago," I add."Don't you worry, sweetheart. I feel better and happier now that I saw and talked to you. We've never done that for a while," she says cheerfully before putting a peck on my forehead.I kiss both of her cheeks. "Good night, Mom. I'm off now. I love you.""I love you too, honey," she replies.We wave bye to each other and then I get out of her room. Smiling from ear to ear, I walk down the hallway until I get down to the ground floor. I hail a ride and then stop at the supermarket and get a bundle of average-size canvases with the art studio fun
When the bleak light of the Sunday morning appears, all I can sense is pain down in my femininity. Last night was a long night. Ryle and I spent an hour and a half 'appreciating' our bodies. Now, I feel like I'm crippled. I feel like can't take a step. I shouldn't have said that I wanted to be in his paradise, because he gave me the real meaning of it.I turn to him. He's lying on his front. In warmth and comfort, he cuddles my bolster. He looks really innocent when he's in shut-eye. I wonder what kind of days he's having as a son of a billionaire. Is he getting everything he wants? Or is he like those rich children who are more filled with problems than the poor are? Who knows? Does he excel in school? Kent is a smart guy, and so is Marco. They both got to that university for the wiz. Does that make Ryle an intellect as well? Maybe. He looks like a typical bad boy, but who knows? Maybe he's a science guy too.I don't know why I'm inspecting his life right now. All
Ryle leaves early at five-thirty. He doesn't eat breakfast because there's something urgent thing he has to attend, as he says. He just kisses me goodbye and greets me "Stay safe, Stella." I can never get tired of his voice saying my name. Ever. His voice is just already automatically needed by my audience.After having breakfast and taking a warm bath, I slide into a kind of baggy jeans, a simple peach sweatshirt, and black sneakers. I also bring an umbrella in case it rains during the recession. After rechecking my stuff, I get out of the building and then pedal to school.It's a cold Monday morning. The streets and people are busy. The skies are blue, but numerous thunderheads are across it. They're quickly flying away though. I hope it doesn't pour later. I have to deliver the canvases to the redesigned studio and rearrange our stuff, especially our storage room. Whatever changed in and on the studio, I hope it's beautiful. Better is acceptable as well. I just
This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned by the writer. This story is abandoned
A new morning rises. It's Saturday and the day is fully packed for me. First, I’ll be at the art studio to finish up a project I left last Sunday. Second, I’ll go to the address Mister Fabio gave me. There isn't a schedule or what, so I'll just go after lunch. I still don't know what to expect. I guess I’ll just let fate do its thing. And last but not least, I’m going to Ryle’s house in the early evening. It's time to face him, whether he likes it or not. But I’d like the earlier more.After slipping into my slippers, I excitedly get out of the room. I immediately smell the breakfast Mom has prepared. I go to the dining room and find Mom stirring her tea while listening to the faint broadcast on her old radio. “Good morning, Mom,” I greet before giving her a tight embrace. “How are you feeling?”She smiles after turning the radio off. “I’ve been good lately. No side effects from medication. My stitches have already healed. Everything is fine,” she says. She stands up. “I’ll just make
When I open my still-hurting eyes, I find myself lying on Mom's hospital bed. She's seated by me, a magazine in her hands. She casually flips pages until she notices me yawning. "It's breezy all day long," she says.I sit straight and then look at her but still lost in thoughts. "Yeah. Good morning," I say before getting off the bed. I sit down on a stool and then smell a strong aroma — coffee. I turn my head around and eventually see the trail of smoke, leading my eyes to two cups of coffee on the table."Take one, sweetheart," Mom orders.I obey. It's coffee. Everything caffeinated is life nowadays. As warmth goes down my freezing insides, satisfaction is what I feel. Coffee really makes me pleased."Good, isn't it?" Mom queries.I nod in agreement. It's coffee, so it has to be good."Just give me the signal if you're comfortable already to talk about it, the reason that made you sob last night," she says, reaching for her cup."How did I get onto your bed?" I change the topic unint
I’ve almost gotten out of my room when I look back at my charging phone. I sit on my bed and the plugged my charger out. I look at Ryle's number before finally hitting the ‘Call’ button. While my phone is ringing, I’m thinking of what I’m going to tell him. I shouldn't sound that curious even though I've actually been since the other night. He's my boyfriend, and I'm his girlfriend. He deserves space, and I do deserve why he needs one, or so I thoughy. He shouldn't be doing this alone. He can share to me what's going on because I hate myself sitting on the mattres and overthinking things.
It's already lunch. I’m sitting alone at a table, eating whatever it is on my tray. I really didn't pick these. Reign did. I was rechecking our team output for Chemistry in the classroom so I told her ‘Just grab me whatever you think I’d like,’ and she didn't fail. She's currently sitting with her girlfriends. She invites me to join them, but I tell her I need to review for Math while filling in my stomach. I hope she knows I’m not as brainy in Math as she naturally is.Anyway, in the following minutes, all I’ve done is sigh and yawn in front of the Trigonometry section of the textbook. It feels like nothing is coming into my mind but void and void. The topic isn't that difficult to grasp. I’m just the problem. I kind of lack appropriate motive to face a book and write essays since Lester dropped me off. His words have been reverberating in my mind, and I can't find a way how to block them. I'm aware that it totally is unhealthy, but overthinking is enveloping every corner of my brain
When I open my still-hurting eyes, I find myself lying on Mom's hospital bed. She's seated by me, a magazine in her hands. She casually flips pages until she notices me yawning. "It's breezy all day long," she says.I sit straight and then look at her but still lost in thoughts. "Yeah. Good morning," I say before getting off the bed. I sit down on a stool and then smell a strong aroma — coffee. I turn my head around and eventually see the trail of smoke, leading my eyes to two cups of coffee on the table."Take one, sweetheart," Mom orders.I obey. It's coffee. Everything caffeinated is life nowadays. As warmth goes down my freezing insides, satisfaction is what I feel. Coffee really makes me pleased."Good, isn't it?" Mom queries.I nod in agreement. It's coffee, so it has to be good."Just give me the signal if you're comfortable already to talk about it, the reason that made you sob last night," she says, reaching for her cup."How did I get onto your bed?" I change the topic unint
When I open my still-hurting eyes, I find myself lying on Mom's hospital bed. She's seated by me, a magazine in her hands. She casually flips pages until she notices me yawning. "It's breezy all day long," she says.I sit straight and then look at her but still lost in thoughts. "Yeah. Good morning," I say before getting off the bed. I sit down on a stool and then smell a strong aroma — coffee. I turn my head around and eventually see the trail of smoke, leading my eyes to two cups of coffee on the table."Take one, sweetheart," Mom orders.I obey. It's coffee. Everything caffeinated is life nowadays. As warmth goes down my freezing insides, satisfaction is what I feel. Coffee really makes me pleased."Good, isn't it?" Mom queries.I nod in agreement. It's coffee, so it has to be good."Just give me the signal if you're comfortable already to talk about it, the reason that made you sob last night," she says, reaching for her cup."How did I get onto your bed?" I change the topic unint
I’ve almost gotten out of my room when I look back at my charging phone. I sit on my bed and the plugged my charger out. I look at Ryle's number before finally hitting the ‘Call’ button. While my phone is ringing, I’m thinking of what I’m going to tell him. I shouldn't sound that curious even though I've actually been since the other night. He's my boyfriend, and I'm his girlfriend. He deserves space, and I do deserve why he needs one, or so I thoughy. He shouldn't be doing this alone. He can share to me what's going on because I hate myself sitting on the mattres and overthinking things.
“Mom told me about it the day after I acted like a dick to you,” Ryle says sorrily, sincerity evident in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Stella. I truly am.”I cup his cheeks and then sweetly kiss one of them. “I know the truth now, Ryle. I’m not mad anymore.” I then smile.He bitterly beams and stays silent for some seconds before speaking again. “I’ve only wanted us to get through this bullshit. I may not deserve you, but you deserve pure love, Stella. I’ll give it to you in any way whatever.”“Ryle.” I stand up, pulling him up as well. I wrap my arms around his broad trunk and then lean my head against his chest. His heartbeats are music to my ears. They calm me. I look back up at Ryle and just smile, my chin on the very center of his chest. “We deserve each other, Ryle. I want us to through this together. Never alone. My future is right in front of me. I’ll never let it go anymore. Ever,” I calmly say.He puts a peck on the tip of my nose and then replies, “I love you so much, baby. I’ll