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39 - shots part 1
kol
“let’s get another round of shots! we are getting married tomorrow!” octavia exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my neck as i just sat motionless at the bar.
she was pregnant, yet she still chose to party for this one night before my impending doom became a reality.
i’ve been drinking, to the point santo had a sit down with me, two weeks ago, saying that i’m not becoming the man that lara would’ve wanted me to be.
i didn’t give a fuck.
she was gone...she left me.
while i’m stuck
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Twisted Love One.
Lara For as long as I can remember I have been infatuated with the moon. The moon, and the ocean—specifically what the moon did to the sea. The light beaming from the sky so simply but causing so much chaos, strong salty gusts of wind, the thick low hanging clouds, in the forbidding empty sky; and the low rumble of thunder that echoes through the air and wraps itself around me, like the wind. That's what loving him felt like, or maybe losing him. Maybe I never had him...maybe loving him was losing him. The chaos of the angry ocean, with the looming uneasy sky, that felt like him. My eyes watch the frothy waves rush to the sand, washing away anything left behind by the previous rush of water. and the dark sky above feels as though it's dripping down around me as I let my teeth sink into my lip, my thoughts escaping me. The thought of his kiss made my cold and pale fingers reach to my lips, swearing I could feel it for a split second, only for the imaginary sensation to disappe
Twisted Love Two.
Lara My phone rings behind me sitting on the edge of the countertop, snapping me out of the memory-filled haze I was in. The hurt from that day, when Elijah told me about Kol, started to creep back into my heart. I could feel the shock settling into my veins, and flowing through my body even though it had been months now since I found out. I stood next to the kitchen counter, my feet planted on the cold wood cracked floor. my eyes scan the screen seeing familiar names and pictures. My eyebrows furrow. He hadn’t called in months and now here he was calling for the third time since yesterday. I sigh staring down at the picture as my thoughts run away from me. I remember that day like it was yesterday actually. He had surprised me with a trip to watch the sunset, the cotton candy clouds posing behind him…almost hiding. The clouds knew they were nothing in comparison to him. The playful look on his face. I think about him not wanting his picture taken…he never wanted me to tak
Twisted Love Three.
Lara We stood on the wood porch-chipped white paint from the salty rough weather. He wasn’t going to drop it. When he wants an answer, he’s stubborn; he'll keep pressing about it until the person in question caves. He looked at me with eyes that were tinted with just a little bit of sadness—and there he goes again making me feel things I didn’t want to be feeling. I don’t want to feel sorry for him. I couldn’t feel sorry for him, especially not after what he did to me, but yet here I am feeling bad. He looks down at his empty hands, littered with rings and scars. I sigh and mentally roll my eyes. I really don’t know why I feel sorry for this man. We just stood there silently, and all I wanted to do was leave. “Lara,” he pushed my name out of my mouth. “I just..” I didn’t know what to say or how to word it exactly. “I just want to know why you let me believe you drowned and died that night...I just wanna know if you had ever planned on telling me? and-and why, why are you back?
Twisted Love Four.
Kol slams the door behind him, his eyes closing as he leaned his head into his hands for a few moments. He just gave in to the hurt, and that resulted in him losing control over his emotions, and the rage set in—before he knew what he was even doing, he balls his hand into a fist and swings his arm, hearing the sound of drywall breaking beneath his fist. “Fuck!” Flies from his mouth and into the air as he watches the small pieces of drywall fall to the floor. He stared at the hole in the wall, his jaw clenched and anger pumping through his veins. The overwhelming stinging that started in his knuckles seemed to climb up his arm. Blood trickles down his scarred knuckles as he trudges through his house. He stopped at his bedroom door, reaching for a picture on the wall— Lara painted it. His fingers wrapped around the top and pulled it off the nail only to let go of it with force and he watched it fall to the floor, glass shattering from the frame— he moved past it, and into his dresser
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