"This story is about the boy I loved. This is about his suffering. This is about my suffering. All of it due to one thing. Affluenza."
TW : Key themes of suicide.
Sebastian Grey. Golden boy, trust fund baby, and Braylen Adams' mortal enemy. Braylen...
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WHEN WE ARRIVE back at the airport in Malibu, I'm so exhausted it's hard to keep my eyes open.We'd arrived just past sunset, the pale orange slowly turning into a bleeding black across the sky.
Oba's car appears in front of the building and Sebastian guides me to the car. "You can sleep once we're in the car, okay?" he murmurs. I nod solemnly. "For someone with such a sucky sleep schedule, you sure are tired for 6:00 p.m."
I scowl at him as best as I can. "I'm jet-lagged. Sue me."
"Maine is only three hours ahead," he reminds me, stepping around a family of five.
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, well I've had an eventful day. And night for that matter. It's your fault. You wore me out."
Sebastian laughs briskly. "You wore yourself out, Brayls."
We're in the car by then and Oba is grinning at us widely. "Welcome home, boys. How was the trip?"
Sebastian gives her a brief summary but all I can manage is a thumbs up. "Forgive him. He's jet-lagged."
Oba makes a face. "But isn't Maine only—"
"You're both mocking me," I grumble, still leaning into Sebastian's side. His arm wraps around me easily, sliding me closer to him. I dive into his warmth and shut my eyes tightly. "Good night."
Aunt Amanda laughs as she begins to drive off, playing soft R&B through the car. The last thing I can remember is Sebastian's lips on my forehead and him whispering to me.
"Good night, baby."
When I wake up, it's not in Sebastian's arms, much to my dismay. I'm in grey shorts and no shirt too, which is also discerning considering I'd been in black sweatpants and a hoodie when we'd boarded the plane. I glance at the clock. 1:00 a.m. Groaning, I pull myself out of bed and search around for my phone.
I eventually find it tucked in a pocket of my plane sweatpants. I pull it up and search for his contact, deciding if he didn't answer I'd just try to get back to sleep. I could tell already that it wouldn't really work; I felt way too awake.
He does answer, though. His face pops up on the screen, blue eyes reflecting the light from his phone in the darkness of his room. "Morning, sunshine," he rasps and his voice sends a pang of longing through me.
"Please tell me it was you who put me in bed and stripped me and not some random maternal ghost."
Sebastian laughs, sitting up so that I can see his entire face. "It was me. Although, I find it hilarious that the only alternative would've been a ghost."
