𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴏɴᴇ

i cannot believe my book is at like 26.7 k y'all are crazy and ily

Without further adieu, enjoy this chapter...

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DEVI BHATT

I have never fully quite grasped the concept of true palpable fear until this moment in time sewn together by the diety in conscience.

Silence spikes in the room as my eyes dart around trying to catch sight of that common movement or shadow. My eyes go into every nook and cranny of the lounge room space. The living room, essentially, but the lounge room just sounds fancy.

I'm completely drowned in terror to move any muscle in response to anything. I stand in the corner, away from the open middle, and all I can feel is the sensation that it's all over me.

I take shallow breaths. In through the nose and out the mouth. There we go.

All of a sudden my phone lights up, and the ringer blares. Thomas is on the ID. Damn him, can't he understand I'm trying to hide?

Slowly and wearily, I reach my hand out for the dreaded call.

Buzz

My head snaps up as I quickly snatch the phone. My hand shakes as I press the green button too frozen to look up.

"Hello? Devi?" asks Thomas.

"Yes, I'm here," I whisper.

"Why are you whispering?" he asks, probably expecting something stupid. But it's not stupid.

I look up and face the being that has me running with my tail between my legs. "There a fucking asian hornet wasp above me right this fucking moment. Help me," I plead. "Please."

"What? I can't hear you, you're talking way too quietly, can you repeat it?"

"I'm going to die," I whisper, as it moves. Who the fuck gave them the right to move- walk, fucking fly even?

"What?" his voice comes through louder.

"I'm going to die!" I cry loudly into the speaker. My back is against the wall, my eyes glued on the fattest wasp in existence. Yes, I'm fat shaming a wasp that that little shit deserves it for going around with that thing willing to sting anyone.

"Would you like me to pass any messages on?" he says, his tone indiferent. "Any last words?"

My back slides down the wall, "Thomas," I whine, and he chuckles clearly amused by my unamused state.

Then the wasp flies.

I'm not kidding it- flaps those little transparent fairy wings and sits its ugly ass on the sofa in front of me. It's facing me. It's like it wants to terrorise me.

I scream loud and frightened into the phone crying.

"Okay, christ–fuck–shit!– don't scream my ear down."

That was a lot of cursing.

"Then don't fucking laugh," I wipe my nose. "You're the worst friend ever."

"Tell it to go away," he advises very poorly.

"That won't work," I complain. I hate him.

"Just try, and put the phone on loudspeaker, you might want to try wafting it too," he suggests.

"Okay," I gulp nervously. I face the wasp head on, hardening my face to steel like how Demyan's would be.

I really just used him as a model– I've really stopped low.