Yavannah Constantine
My head throbbed like a never-ending pulse as I palmed it, my elbows placed securely on the wooden surface of my desk. A strange and embarrassed groan escaped my lips as I smacked my cheek softly.
What was I thinking?
Wait—was I even thinking at all?
Clearly not. Because tell me why I not only slapped my brother but cried like a fucking baby.
In the arms of the one person I would never have wanted to cry in. Not that there was anything wrong with crying in front of Adonis. I just hated feeling vulnerable. I hated being seen as weak.
I wanted to regret it, but deep down I knew that Yaskier's words had cut deep. Our parents were a sensitive topic for both of us, and hearing him completely disregard them like that was unnerving.
A sigh escaped my lips as I rose from the desk, trudging towards my bed before face-planting into it. The soft mattress gave into my weight as I curled around it.
