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73

He looks so deadly serious, delivering another wound to my soul and I break down properly. Heart-wrenching with how bad this can feel, how bad his rejections always affect me, and I start to cry painfully. Like a wounded child who doesn’t care if anyone sees her. Arrick moves towards me as tears make their way down my face, his own face crumbling at the sight of them, and losing all resolve.

“Stop crying, Mimmo, you know I hate seeing you cry.” His voice breaks with emotion, reaching for me, soft and tender, but I just slap his hands away aggressively. Full fury pouring out at his rejection, heart bruised again and not in the mood to have any more of his touches, innocent or not. He just messes me up.

“Go to hell.” I walk past him at speed, shoving him aside with a shoulder bump, determined to get away from the source of my pain and head towards home. Arrick pauses for a moment, watches me, and then follows me closely.

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