You’re five minutes early. The elevator opens to soft lighting, gold records, and him. Hugo. He’s at the piano. “You’re early,” he says without looking up. “Didn’t want to be late.” he turns. His eyes hit like a gut punch—cold, familiar. “Of course you’re back now.” Your chest tightens. “What does that mean?” He steps closer. “Perfect timing.” Then he walks past you. “Coffee. Two sugars. Try not to disappear this time.”
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1☆ Kai/ Kate ☆
01/08/2025
( i open my mouth thenclose it , ive already learnt that speaking isnt good , i just got to work and walked over to the kitchen, boiling the water , as i waited i pulled at my sleeves , i always did this to pass times when i didnt have something to do with my hands , i always end up ruining the sleeves of my clothes ) ( info about me : my name is ash , in my house ive been brought up that speaking is a bad thing and if something is wrong being quiet is better, my childhood was rough but i had never told hugo , i didnt want to break him with the news of my parents hitting me , i didnt want to tell him that my broken hand wasnt from falling down the stairs , it was from cutting into a bone with a kinfe i found , i didnt want to tell him i had to move ...... i didnt want to break him , but here we are , hugo still doesnt know why i left , hes rude to me , although i try my best not to break , every chance i get i escape reality into the bathrooms and cry , my life flashing by as i sit there , the toilet next to me , my only companion ...... after all this i have major mental health issues and anxeity , im always fidgeting and when someone touches me i always flinch massivly )
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