Oh How We Love Jealousy.

622 15 35
                                    

Chapter 8: Oh How We Love Jealously

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Chapter 8: Oh How We Love Jealously.

Viktor

"Way to screw up a perfect moment with the most perfect girl," I hissed to myself on my way toward my dorm room. I was lucky to have my own space and not have to share with anyone. I'd applied earlier in my freshman year, which is why I got first dibs.

I shouldn't have left her like that, not when I knew she hurt herself. The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. But I couldn't tell her about my sister—not when she was going through something similar. I had to remind myself that I couldn't let her in; I could potentially hurt her. But I couldn't not protect her either.

Fuck! I was so screwed, and it scared the hell out of me. I sighed as I pulled my phone out of my pocket to send Amora a message, praying she was okay.

Mr. Popular: You okay?

Flore: ...

Mr. Popular: Please, baby, answer me. I'm worried.

Flore: Busy.

What exactly was she busy with? Studying? Reading? Writing? Oh fuck! Was she busy cutting herself? No, not that.

Mr. Popular: With?

Flore: Nope.

Mr. Popular: I'm sorry, okay? The way I acted— I was just scared.

Flore: Thank you for the truth. But I already figured.

Of course she did. My smart girl.

Mr. Popular: Just tell me what you really want to know, Amora.

Flore: Who told you about my dark thoughts?

I couldn't hide this from her. She needed to know that someone noticed. She shouldn't be ashamed of it; she just needed help.

But I knew the only way to help someone was to make them realize they needed it first. Amora Leclair was no fool; that's how she caught my true feelings deep down inside. Maybe we weren't so different after all.

Mr. Popular: The barista...

Flore: Of course. She always seemed to look at me weirdly, like she was trying to read me.

Mr. Popular: So you admit it?

Flore: Yes, but please don't pity me. I hate that so much.

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚Where stories live. Discover now