𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

17 || Bonnie and Clyde

Montell Fish - Hotel

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Celina

There were three things that made my world go round.

The first, out of pure obligation and respect had to be my Sitto - but she was besides the point. The real focus of this inner monologue was the other two; eating and sleeping.

When I didn't eat enough, I got angry. When I didn't get a good nights sleep, I either got aggressive or flat out violent.

In this moment of time, I was on the cusp of a new reaction, far worse than the fore-mentioned.

The sun blares onto my face, into my shut eyes, the burn enough to disturb my peace. A sense of peace that was already hanging on by a thread.

It's all so painfully uncomfortable.

The heat steams off my skin but doesn't seem to go far with the amount of pressure blanketing around me. The bed is so small, my body doesn't move in fear of falling and I'm in a state of tiredness that's put me into a delusion so deep, I'm under the impression that if I keep my eyes closed, I'll drift off and forget everything around me.

That doesn't happen.

When I can't take it anymore, my eyes drift open and the desire for violence is briefly interrupted by confusion when I spot the blanket thrown across the floor as though I'd kicked it off in my sleep.

Then what the fuck is on me...

Instinctively, my gaze trickles down the length of my body laid across the bed, stiffening when I catch sight of the monstrosity causing all this discomfort.

An arm, one that by the sheer weight of it, feels like a pound of fucking bricks squeezing my ribcage so hard I'm sure my lungs are moments from giving out is thrown across my waist.

The unblemished skin is exposed, the muscles at rest still on display while veins run beneath the skin of his forearm down to his hand that's fisting a chunk of my dress.

I have half a mind to think someone sunk into my room late at night, but critical thinking tells me otherwise.

The bizarre reality takes yet another unexpected turn when I make a move to look to the body behind me, only to stop at the lack of room between our bodies.

Not only is the man sleeping behind me, with his arm thrown across my waist, in a manner that seems so natural, but he's far closer than I'd ever allow a man to lay peacefully, let alone him.

I don't know what to make of this situation, and perhaps it's the delirium catching up to me, but I have the briefest urge to shut my eyes and go back to sleep.

I'm on the cusp of following through with it, when I snap my eyes open, mortified at the thought that I - Celina Ademaro was willing to sleep next to a man who'd done nothing but try to kill me.

Fuck no.

A foul taste makes its way up my throat, prompting me to move my hand down until my fingers brush across his wrist and wrap around it.

His wrist is large, his skin soft, and my hand barely wraps the entire circumference of it as I make a move to lift it up and off me, but am stopped from doing so.