painless, a needle in a doll / pietro+florentine
Jul 4, 2024 19:36:56 GMT -5
Post by clover ❁ on Jul 4, 2024 19:36:56 GMT -5
![](https://tinypic.host/images/2024/01/17/large-1621591105-92f752b0ef358085ebc5ce95a7193fb7.md.jpeg)
florentine.
i am feeling pretty good, wrapped up in a dress i 'borrowed' from last night's entertainment's sister. i won't be returning it. i hope i never see either of their stupid, coddled faces again. i like the dress, though. it swaddles me, like i am a restless infant, and, by significantly restraining my movement, it can make me calm. i think it's working. it could be that, or the joint i am halfway through.
i made sure to have breakfast before i left. there is not much point in sleeping with rich fools if you do not take advantage of the pancakes. sometimes its a toss up - generally, you have to dawdle around, and make small-talk with their unsufferable, smothering mothers, but a part of me gets a kick out of that, too, if i'm in the right mood. mostly, they adore me, if they can get the image of me sucking on their sons--
something interrupts my train of thought. on the other side of the river, there is a figure that i think i recognise. it's difficult to be sure, because i haven't seen pietro in a long, long time. i stop dead and stare; this, i realise, is not particularly cool, or chill, but i suspect that he can see through that shit anyway, so sometimes i don't bother with it. i don't think i could stop myself if i wanted to.
there is a surge of excitement in my throat; he is safe. he is alive. i was starting to think he was rotting in a ditch somewhere. it wouldn't be the first time of the kids ended up that way, and nothing about pietro made me confident he wouldn't join them. but it really, really is him. he looks about the same as always.
in the bright light of my realisation, the relief is replaced, rapidly, with anger. if, indeed, he is alive and well - then where the hell has he been?
i shout across the water before i can stop myself. "hey!" i wave my hands to ensure that i have caught his attention. the stolen jewellery on my wrist jangles as i do. he's lucky we are separated by a narrow body of water; i'd punch in his smug little face if he was closer.
"where the fuck have you been?"
i can't think of any reasonable explanations.