Her fist punches glass, shards slipping through the bandages on her knuckles and drawing blood.
“You still thinking about her?” Loris’ voice peeks through Vi’s rage induced violence.
She grips the edge of the sink, staring at herself in the now shattered mirror as her black eye makeup smears down her cheeks with tears threatening to fall.
Anger, heartbreak, and betrayal was all Vi thought of when she thought of you, the girl who managed to make her fall both in love and to the ground in pain.
“No, she doesn’t even cross my mind,” she grunts, dragging the black paint down her skin. “She can go rot for all I care.”
Loris hums, not believing Vi for a moment but leaving her room to let her take her anger out without him getting in the crossfire.
The door clicks shut and her chest starts to heave rapidly before throwing the broken glass across the room.
Her body hits her “bed”, the hard mattress giving some relief to her aching muscles as her eyes close painfully from exhaustion.
Images of you flash behind her eyelids, the sight of you being tender towards her again gave her a sense of comfort, a thing she clinged onto with a death grip.