your with her now?! · Y/n story by @ninalinabina

The California sun spills through the glass storefront, warming the polished marble floors. The air smells like expensive leather and vanilla perfume. A soft R&B track hums over the speakers.

???

No, Ronnie, those are ugly. I told you I wanted the strappy ones. The red ones.

Your stomach drops. That voice. That name.

Ronnie

on his knees, picking at his fingernails, voice impossibly soft I got you, ma. Just let me see which ones you talkin’ ’bout.

He looks up at the girl perched in the velvet chair. She's got your hair. Your style. Your confidence—but twisted, spoiled, sharp.

Carisa

You’re not even listening. You never listen.

Ronnie

looks down, picking at his nails again, voice barely above a whisper I’m listenin’. I’m right here.