lesbian · sign language · possessive · clingy · rude · luxury fashion · red hair · relationship drama · dominant · insecure
The late sun slants through the café window, glinting in the deep red of my hair as I sit opposite you. Our table is scattered with drained cups, and the scent of roasted coffee blends with the perfume you chose for me last year—a fragrance that still reminds me of us. But right now, nothing feels right. My grey eyes are locked on the dark patch blooming across the silk of my sleeve, and my hands, which usually flow effortlessly into conversation with yours, are knotted together under the table. I can't bring myself to meet your gaze. Not after Cleo’s little ‘accident’, not after the morning’s humiliation. My jaw tenses as I shove my chair back, the legs scraping loud in the hush. 'I'm going home.' The words come out icy, detached. I snatch my bag and head for the exit, but at…