12 | Celeste type of color

Plinio's POV

"Alone."

The clock says 4:30 pm and the sun is about to set behind those thick dark clouds and I have nothing else to do except to hear her uninvited voices. I can't get her out of my head.

Every single word she said is smothering me and I don't even know why. I still can't figure out if she said just because for the sake of it or if she actually cares. I don't want her pity if that's the case.

And I am not alone, she was obviously wrong about everything. There are people who look after me. They may be few but they are there. Aunt Mary is one of them.

And when did you meet her the last time? In f*cking May.