17 Made Mistakes

⋆9༄ Third time's a charm.

Hey there! How are you? Are you excited for another chapter because I am! I was also reading some stuff on Google yesterday, and found out that ages ago wattpad didn't have the spam error, hence so many people could endlessly promote their stories. How unfair, lol *huffs in offended*. I was thinking as well about preparing 17 Missed Calls for wattys 2021 but then I saw that the stories that win aren't spicy at all, so I'm giving up the idea, I guess, lol. Thank you so much for reading and for already over 500 votes on 17 Made Mistakes! Now let's have an insight into our bad boy's mind, shall we?

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Will's POV

Davina and her persistent curiosity will be the death of me, I swear. When it comes to asking questions, hers are just like the number π  — simply infinite. Once she starts investigating, there is no way of stopping her. Freaking Horatio Caine but with brown hair, green eyes and a vagina instead of a dick.

I let a frustrated breath out, tilting my head backwards as I rub my face with my hands and rest my back against the seat of my car.

Once I was midway to Davina's house as I only intended to drop her off, she understood the direction of our short journey and immediately started bombarding me with questions — all of them solely regarding one thing — the day when I tried to reach her three times. So I cranked up the radio even more, rather having my eardrums destroyed than my mind gnawed at.

I couldn't tell her. At least not yet, therefore, I parked in front of her house and harshly forced her with my words to jump out of the vehicle. She wasn't pleased about it but I couldn't care less. I was way too unbalanced right now. As I've said before to Rayna, I had never been a great candidate for a relationship but lately, I wasn't even able to have a normal conversation with anyone. Either I remained silent with a promise of death withering in my eyes, or I made a use of my ability to speak just to get into someone's pants — there was no in between.

Being still sat in my car in front of my house, I keep the engine working, letting the music quell my infuriation. Girls. There were so many within the last few weeks that I can barely remember their names. Gwen, Rosette, Skylar, Mavi, El, Jules, Jasmine, Kate... But the roster only gets longer — Emma, Beck, Hailey, Sydney, or maybe Sierra? No, it was definitely Sophie... I just couldn't remember anymore. After first ten their names started to quickly blur into a meaningless combination of letters, but I was still insatiable. And now I was fucking Avery.

Having turned the key and let the sound of the engine die down, I get out of the car, fiercely slamming the door of the vehicle shut.

As I trudge towards the house, I notice that the lights are on — a sign that Anthony, my butler, has arrived and now was probably taking care of his evening duties, which included preparing the supper. I never really made him wash my clothes or clean the toilets, he was more of a friend to me. Just a polite, funny old man with great cooking skills — an ideal company for someone like me — a distressed, young man living in such a big and empty house.

As I push the door open the smell of food momentarily fills my nostrils however, it's different to what I expected it to be. It's something unpleasant to my senses, something that I don't want to be stagnant in the air.

Having quietly closed the door behind me, I start to make my way towards the kitchen, my chest expands in a calming breath that I take. I really don't want to shout, especially not at someone as kind and helpful as Anthony.

But then it gets worse.

The smell of fish becomes stronger as I emerge in the chosen area, a familiar melody being played on the radio resounds in my ears, awakening my so far dormant madness. "Anthony, what is—" I pause, watching an arm pop out from between the fridge doors, closing one of them shut, a face of a girl comes to my view. "Avery?" I scrunch my eyebrows, tentatively making a few steps forward.