#muse: polo villada

[aftermidnightmuses]

Nothing. Polo felt nothing. Not the usual panic and fear, not anger or hate, not sadness or regret. Nothing. It was like he’d felt a switch flip inside of him and he’d gone from wrecking his room like a demolition crew to laying on the floor in the middle of the wreckage on his stomach with his hands under his head and his eyes as dead as a corpse. The red rims around his now dry eyes and nose said that he had been crying, but not anymore. If his mothers saw what he had done, he’d be in trouble. They were already not quite happy about housing him in his childhood bedroom with him now being an adult and his emotional outbursts and misbehavior had been getting him in trouble. Unbeknownst to him, Everett had been asked to come pick something up and he’d be on his way in to find him soon.

@everettandersonsings​