You're Fucked Up!

How I wish it was a vision, or even a nightmare. But not. As soon as they saw me, they both got up immediately.

Breno this time wore branded, original sneakers, a couple sizes too big for his feet, worn jeans and a red-and-black plaid shirt, the sleeves ripped off, turned into shorts with his own hands.

Anya wore a red and black plaid dress, with a black leather jacket over it and black leather high boots. Just looking very closely to make sure the fabric of his shirt and her dress weren't the same. Her red hair was pulled back in a poorly made ponytail on top of her head.

God, as if analyzing their clothes was the most important thing right now! No, it wasn't ... But I was hoping that when I looked into their eyes, they would magically evaporate from my face.

Of course that's not what happened, after all, I wasn't in Narnia but Noriah North.

- What do you want? – I asked, trying to show a courage that I didn't feel at that moment.

- The girl. – Anya was direct.

- No way. She is mine.