She turned over, kicked the sheets, then sat up again, muttering like a madwoman.
His words kept looping in her brain. That one simple question.
"Your parents. What were they like?"
Vivienne grabbed a pillow and pressed it against her face, groaning so hard it sounded like a scream muffled into feathers.
"Why the fuck am I even thinking about this?" she hissed at herself, throwing the pillow across the room. It landed with a dull thud, and she glared at it like it had personally insulted her.
She got up and started pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. Her hands clutched at her hair.
"Why am I thinking about people who probably never gave a shit? Huh? Why, Vivienne, you dumb bitch? Why?" Her voice cracked, but she swallowed it, shaking her head violently.
She stopped by the mirror, staring at her reflection in the pale light. Her eyes were hollow, her lips pressed tight, her whole face looking too raw for her liking.
