Amelia's POV
We sit side by side on the floor, our backs against the bed, our gazes on the wall in front of us.
"Why'd you paint your room this color?" I ask. All the other rooms are in the same color. Beige. Except his. Maroon.
"You'll think I'm obsessed with you if I answer that, Mia. So, I refuse to answer that."
And that is an answer in itself.
I think I'm obsessed with you too, Miguel.
Turning sideways to glance at him, I make a face when I see he's lighting a joint.
"Lung cancer–"
"Is deadly. I should know all about it since it took the closest person to a parent I've ever had."
I watch him exhale smoke into the air and as if he can feel me watching him with judgement in my eyes, he stands and goes to dispose of it before coming back to sit beside me
