𝐶𝐿𝑂𝐴𝐾 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐷𝐴𝐺𝐺𝐸𝑅 | 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 [DISCONTINUED]

𝟑𝟐 | 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

"𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑒𝑑𝑔𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠."
—𝐹𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑁𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑧𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑒

𝒩.

𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒 Natalia woke up, she was greeted by a headache.

Whether it was from stress or the rain from the day before, she had no clue. She felt like it was a little bit of both.

With a small groan, she rubbed her forehead and looked at her alarm clock on the nightstand to see that it was a little after nine o'clock. She had gone to sleep a little before eleven, so she figured that she had slept enough. 

Out of habit, she turned onto her right side to give Diego a kiss but paused when she realized two things.

1. She was not in the mood to give him a kiss.
2. He wasn't in bed.

Where the hell was he?

Then remembering that the night before, she had told him that he'd sleep on the couch, she slipped out of bed, hoping that he'd be fast asleep in the living room. She, however, had a strong feeling he wouldn't be; if she was already asleep by the time he got home, why wouldn't he just take the opportunity to sleep in the bed?

Her fear was confirmed as she stepped out of the bedroom: the couch, and the room surrounding it, was empty.

"Diego?" she called out, hoping that, perhaps, he was in the bathroom or hiding in some nook or cranny she couldn't see. "Diego? Are you home?"

When she heard nothing but the soft ticking of the clock, she sighed and sat down on the couch. She rubbed her forehead as she tried to think of where he could be.

There was a possibility that he could've gone back to the Academy, or perhaps he left home early for the gym. Though, she didn't know why he wouldn't have told her or called, at least. 

Or, maybe, while he was on his patrol, something might've . . .

No, she couldn't think like that. He was fine. Perfectly safe and uninjured. Right?

She began to twist her ring, succumbing to the worry that was starting to numb her body and freeze her veins. What if something had happened to him? And her last interaction with him had been a horrible, furious one?

She'd never forgive herself.

With some willpower, she grabbed the phone from its charging station and dialled in the phone number that she had memorized long ago.

It only took a couple of rings before a familiar voice answered, "Hargreeves Residence."

"Hi, Pogo," Natalia greeted, rubbing her forehead. "It's Natalia."

"Ah, Miss Natalia. Is everything all right?"

"Diego hasn't come home yet. Did he happen to stop by the Academy last night or this morning?"

Pogo paused for a moment before answering, "I'm sorry to disappoint; I haven't seen him since the funeral."

Natalia's heart sank. "Okay. Thanks, anyway."

"Of course."

As soon as she hung up, she went through the list of contacts that had been saved onto the phone before finding Nigel's, and she swiftly dialled his number.