𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

58 || Paradise

Song: The Neighborhood - Fallen Star (slowed + reverb)

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Nico

If there was one consistency in my life, it was my inherent laziness.

I didn't go out of my way for people, I didn't bother responding to texts let alone calls, and I valued my sleep, so much so that I wouldn't be caught dead awake before noon.

I slept. A fuck ton.

But you'd think I was an insomniac with how little I'd slept these past two days.

It fucking sucked. Not only was I in a state of anguish, but I was stressed, unapproachable and easily agitated.

There were arguably three things I could do to calm me down when I got like this; kill, get high, and or fuck Bambi.

And since the last option wasn't possible, seeing as said girl was currently comatose up in my room with a gun shot wound in her stomach, I had two other options.

I could tear the city apart and kill every person to blame for that night, or I could get high.

I choose the less destructive option.

Yet even after taking my time with each and every Russian involved in that night, I couldn't bring myself to kill the one person that was truly to blame for all of this.

Daniel Dumont.

Don't get me wrong, I'd beaten the absolute shit out of the asshole. Leaving him with a broken nose, wrist, ankle and ear, but I couldn't go through with actually ending his pathetic little life.

Something was stopping me from following through with it. Perhaps that something was the dread of having to break Bambi's heart when she woke or the thought of potently losing her after I did so. But she'd gotten her way.

And when even all that violence wasn't enough, I'd breezed through the last seven names in my little black book.

I'd gotten through the last of the names of all the men that'd wronged mamá or I in some way. It was monumental, I'd fulfilled all I needed to in order to reach paradise, but I felt stuck.

In theory, I was ready for paradise, yet there was still something holding me back.

I was stuck and I could do nothing but sit and wallow in a state of despair as I waited for the girl that I loved so much, I was starting to hate.

For fucks sake she had me using words like anguish and despair.

It'd been two days. I've suffered for two fucking days and had every doctor I hired not told me she'd wake up soon, I'd have killed myself out of impatience.

In a way, she was also partly to blame for all this shit.

she was careless, reckless and naive. Throwing herself into dangerous situations without any sort of critical thinking skills. I often wondered if it was the cult getting to her head or the fact that she just didn't give a fuck about herself.

Either way, I hated her for it.

Jesus, I fucking hated this selfless trait she had. If she was just a fraction of the shitness I was, my life would be so much easier.