ANGEL
Dinner was silent.
Vincent ate without looking at me. Not once. Not when I sat down, or when I reached for the water.
He didn’t even flinch when I knocked my glass against my fork loudly enough to make the sound ring through the dining room.
I’d become invisible to him, and the absence of his attention itched under my skin worse than his surveillance ever had.
For these past weeks, I’ve wanted him to stop watching me.
Now that he had, I felt... weird.
Like I might float away and nobody would notice or care.
I went to bed without speaking, lying in my suffocating pink room staring at the wall and waiting for sleep that refused to come.
I pressed my face into the pillow and screamed silently. And I kept screaming until my voice was hoarse, I wanted to hurt something. Break
