Post by Ana Somnia on Jun 1, 2020 13:50:25 GMT -5
I.
ANA SOMNIA’S CONDO.
MIAMI, FLORIDA.
THURSDAY, MAY 21st.
7:24 p.m.
ANA SOMNIA’S CONDO.
MIAMI, FLORIDA.
THURSDAY, MAY 21st.
7:24 p.m.
Half an hour from sunset, the day’s heat, while dwindling down, is still gripping every ounce of moisture in Miami, Florida. Here by the water, the breeze trickling in from over the white caps wields a chill, offering Floridians an oasis of sorts from the blistering heat of the daytime. Despite the chill, Anastasia Westen steps up the stairs to the front door to her condominium clad in a pair of black sheer-panel leggings and a sleeveless black sweatshirt, as well as a black and white pair of sneakers to consummate her ensemble. Her hair, far lighter than it had been even last night on ALPHA Wrestling’s go-home episode ahead of Ascendance, is tied back in a messy bun at the upper backside of her skull, allowing exposition to her disquieted facial expression. When she reaches the door, she pushes her key into the deadbolt lock and twists it, repeating the motion with the standard lock as well, entering her home with the confidence of security. Upon shutting the door behind her and locking back up, however, Westen’s sense of security vanishes as a result of the shuffling she can hear coming from her bedroom. Her brow furrows, her fists and jaw clenching tightly as she puts down what she had been carrying and cautiously inches closer and closer to the door to her bedroom until she stands in the doorway and lays her gaze upon the back of a blonde woman’s head. The woman wears a black pair of wet-look leggings and a red crop top beneath a black zip-up hoodie with the zipper unwound. Westen’s eyes glide up and down the muscular figure fondly, recognizing it as that of her girlfriend, Sara Daniels.
As a whiff of the perfume Sara uses dances under Westen’s nostrils, Ana becomes far more at ease; her shoulders lower, her jaw and fists unclench, and it feels like a weight has been lifted. Sauntering up behind her muse, Westen softly reaches around her waist and rests her chin on Sara’s shoulder, surprising Daniels. With that said, it is Ana who finds herself the most surprised, peering down at the three-quarters full suitcase on the bed on the far side of Sara. The almost truly literal cold shoulder of the South African prompts Somnia to release her embrace and take a step back to give Sara the room to turn around. When she does, the stitches on her face and the residual swelling from Hayley Webb’s vicious assault last night stare Westen in the face like a warped reflection in a mirror, sending an unnerving chill down Ana’s spine.
“What,” begins Westen, though her voice hitches and trails off with a frog in her throat. “What’s goin’ on, Dani?”
A sigh sings through Sara’s nasal passages before she tucks some her straight, blonde hair behind her ear and bites her bottom lip uneasily. Without a word, she turns back around, bowing her head forward and resting her hands on the rigid edge of the suitcase with her clothing nearly filling it below.
“I’m gonna’ stay at my place for a little bit,” explains Sara. “I… I need some space.”
“What?”
Panic trembles Ana’s voice as she speaks, completely caught off guard by Sara’s intended departure. Daniels, on the other hand, returns to her task of removing articles of her clothing from Ana’s closet and drawers to place them in her suitcase. Each piece of attire she removes is like a bullet wound for Westen, who runs both hands back through her hair and rests them, fingers interlocked, on the back of her head just under the bun, her mouth hanging slightly agape as if the air were slowly but surely being pulled out of her lungs.
“This is why I waited ‘til you weren’t home,” responds Daniels, wearing a grimace. “I don’t… I can’t fuckin’ talk to you about this right now.”
“Please, муза,” pleads the Dallas native. “Just tell me what’s goin’ on… What’s wrong?”
“...” starts Sara. “What’s... WRONG?! Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, Ana? Did that Widow’s Peak fuck with your memory or somethin’? Are you really gonna’ forget what Hayley just fuckin’ did to me..?”
“Dani,” Ana responds. “You know I ain’t capable’a forgettin’ somethin’ like that… I just don’t know what that’s gotta’ do with this. Why are you… Leavin’ instead’a stayin’ by my side an’ standin’ our ground? We should be sittin’ here, together, an’ plannin’ how to make that тупая пизда pay for what she did.”
“I damn well ain’t defendin’ her but the ONLY reason she even came after me in the first place is because of what you did. Don’t think I’m sayin’ you shouldn’t’ve done it because Hayley deserved it an’ worse, but… Right now I just don’t think I can be around you. You talk this big game ‘bout lovin’ me an’ carin’ ‘bout me, but when it comes time to prove it it’s the same old shit over an’ over!” Sara throws her hands into the air before letting them fall and slap against her thighs. “It ain’t like I don’t believe you feel the way about me that ya’ say you do, but lately, Ana? Shit ain’t been gettin’ all that much better since what happened with Seize. You told me things were gonna’ change an’ the only change I see happenin’ right now is me movin’ out for a little bit.”
Crestfallen, Ana feels faint and turns to slump down into a semi-seated position against the bed. She cannot believe her ears and the sight of Sara continuing to pack in her peripheral makes Ana feel as if someone were standing on her chest.
“Dani...”
“I’ve already made up my mind, Ana,” says Sara rather pointedly. “I don’t know for how long, but this is what I need right now. If you love an’ care about me the way ya’ say you do you’ll respect that.”
Ana, as if spurred one, turns and reaches out, placing her hand on Sara’s. Daniels looks into Ana’s mint green eyes for the briefest of moments before pursing her lips and allowing her gaze to drift back down to the suitcase. Pulling her hand away from her girlfriend’s, Daniels takes one last trip to the closest and removes an article of clothing from a hanger, folding it and placing it on top of the contents of the suitcase before somewhat emphatically zipping it shut. When she goes to pull the suitcase off of the bed, Ana rises to her feet and once more places her hand on Sara’s arm; but this time Sara is not okay with it.
“Take your hand off me if ya’ wanna’ keep it...”
Westen has no idea what to say or do as she allows her hand to sheepishly slip free and fall back to her side, her throat suddenly feeling parched.
“Dani, I… I love you... Please don’t go. We can figure this out. We always do.”
“I’m sorry.”
With this, Sara turns on her heels and lugs her suitcase out through the doorway. Ana remains standing in the exact same place until she hears the front door slam shut behind Daniels; the sound of the door crashing closed hits Westen like a freight train and she collapses to her knees before slumping backward into a demoralized, seated position leaning back against the side of her bed. She runs her hands back through her hair again, but this time when she hooks her hands behind her neck she has to choke back a sob. The sun sets outside and Westen can only hope it hasn’t set on her relationship with Sara Daniels.
As a whiff of the perfume Sara uses dances under Westen’s nostrils, Ana becomes far more at ease; her shoulders lower, her jaw and fists unclench, and it feels like a weight has been lifted. Sauntering up behind her muse, Westen softly reaches around her waist and rests her chin on Sara’s shoulder, surprising Daniels. With that said, it is Ana who finds herself the most surprised, peering down at the three-quarters full suitcase on the bed on the far side of Sara. The almost truly literal cold shoulder of the South African prompts Somnia to release her embrace and take a step back to give Sara the room to turn around. When she does, the stitches on her face and the residual swelling from Hayley Webb’s vicious assault last night stare Westen in the face like a warped reflection in a mirror, sending an unnerving chill down Ana’s spine.
“What,” begins Westen, though her voice hitches and trails off with a frog in her throat. “What’s goin’ on, Dani?”
A sigh sings through Sara’s nasal passages before she tucks some her straight, blonde hair behind her ear and bites her bottom lip uneasily. Without a word, she turns back around, bowing her head forward and resting her hands on the rigid edge of the suitcase with her clothing nearly filling it below.
“I’m gonna’ stay at my place for a little bit,” explains Sara. “I… I need some space.”
“What?”
Panic trembles Ana’s voice as she speaks, completely caught off guard by Sara’s intended departure. Daniels, on the other hand, returns to her task of removing articles of her clothing from Ana’s closet and drawers to place them in her suitcase. Each piece of attire she removes is like a bullet wound for Westen, who runs both hands back through her hair and rests them, fingers interlocked, on the back of her head just under the bun, her mouth hanging slightly agape as if the air were slowly but surely being pulled out of her lungs.
“This is why I waited ‘til you weren’t home,” responds Daniels, wearing a grimace. “I don’t… I can’t fuckin’ talk to you about this right now.”
“Please, муза,” pleads the Dallas native. “Just tell me what’s goin’ on… What’s wrong?”
“...” starts Sara. “What’s... WRONG?! Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, Ana? Did that Widow’s Peak fuck with your memory or somethin’? Are you really gonna’ forget what Hayley just fuckin’ did to me..?”
“Dani,” Ana responds. “You know I ain’t capable’a forgettin’ somethin’ like that… I just don’t know what that’s gotta’ do with this. Why are you… Leavin’ instead’a stayin’ by my side an’ standin’ our ground? We should be sittin’ here, together, an’ plannin’ how to make that тупая пизда pay for what she did.”
“I damn well ain’t defendin’ her but the ONLY reason she even came after me in the first place is because of what you did. Don’t think I’m sayin’ you shouldn’t’ve done it because Hayley deserved it an’ worse, but… Right now I just don’t think I can be around you. You talk this big game ‘bout lovin’ me an’ carin’ ‘bout me, but when it comes time to prove it it’s the same old shit over an’ over!” Sara throws her hands into the air before letting them fall and slap against her thighs. “It ain’t like I don’t believe you feel the way about me that ya’ say you do, but lately, Ana? Shit ain’t been gettin’ all that much better since what happened with Seize. You told me things were gonna’ change an’ the only change I see happenin’ right now is me movin’ out for a little bit.”
Crestfallen, Ana feels faint and turns to slump down into a semi-seated position against the bed. She cannot believe her ears and the sight of Sara continuing to pack in her peripheral makes Ana feel as if someone were standing on her chest.
“Dani...”
“I’ve already made up my mind, Ana,” says Sara rather pointedly. “I don’t know for how long, but this is what I need right now. If you love an’ care about me the way ya’ say you do you’ll respect that.”
Ana, as if spurred one, turns and reaches out, placing her hand on Sara’s. Daniels looks into Ana’s mint green eyes for the briefest of moments before pursing her lips and allowing her gaze to drift back down to the suitcase. Pulling her hand away from her girlfriend’s, Daniels takes one last trip to the closest and removes an article of clothing from a hanger, folding it and placing it on top of the contents of the suitcase before somewhat emphatically zipping it shut. When she goes to pull the suitcase off of the bed, Ana rises to her feet and once more places her hand on Sara’s arm; but this time Sara is not okay with it.
“Take your hand off me if ya’ wanna’ keep it...”
Westen has no idea what to say or do as she allows her hand to sheepishly slip free and fall back to her side, her throat suddenly feeling parched.
“Dani, I… I love you... Please don’t go. We can figure this out. We always do.”
“I’m sorry.”
With this, Sara turns on her heels and lugs her suitcase out through the doorway. Ana remains standing in the exact same place until she hears the front door slam shut behind Daniels; the sound of the door crashing closed hits Westen like a freight train and she collapses to her knees before slumping backward into a demoralized, seated position leaning back against the side of her bed. She runs her hands back through her hair again, but this time when she hooks her hands behind her neck she has to choke back a sob. The sun sets outside and Westen can only hope it hasn’t set on her relationship with Sara Daniels.