The Rink (BXB) (COMPLETE~ UNDER EDITING)

🌜Sleepover - Part 3🌛

Ello! This is the final part of the sleepover series, therefore it is also a mini-chapter. A new, full-sized chapter will be up soon!! Enjoy:3

Edited! 

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[*Keith's POV*]

"So, Keith, am I saying that right?"

I glanced up from my plate, the smell of fresh eggs and toast filling my nostrils. Something I wasn't quite used to. Nor was I used to someone asking me something like that. "I uh, yeah."

She nodded, taking a sip of her tea. Augustino was upstairs, taking a shower. It felt strangely wrong to sit here, the warm, cozy colors being a stark contrast to my own house. "Well, how are you feeling, after last night?"

An uneasy feeling bubbled within me, slowly crawling up my chest. I quickly looked away, focusing my attention on the delicious food in front of me. "Uh—  I-I'm fine, yeah."

She narrowed her gaze at me. "May I ask what happened? What caused it? It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but just know this is a safe space, okay?"

My hands reached up to fidget with my necklace, a massive monster of anxiety roaring in my head. Why was she asking so many questions? "Mhm.." I felt moisture building up at the corners of my eyes. Fuck.

"Keith..?"

I jerked my head up at the sudden feeling of a hand on my shoulder. To my horror, Augustino's mom flinched back, surprised by my reaction. "Oh— mi dis— I mean, I'm sorry," she quickly muttered before returning to her seat.

I took a shaky breath, making a move to stand up. "I uhm, I'll go check up on Au— Lorenzo."

"He'll be down in a bit, don't worry." She glanced at Phoenix who was happily sleeping further into the living room. "She's a border collie, right?"

The endless small talk continued for a while, the anxiety getting worse with each question she asked me. That was until finally, Augustino got downstairs. Thank God.

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Augustino patted the empty chair next to him, sitting at this desk which had various papers and pens sprawled across it, small groups of perfectly assigned words spilling from each paper. I reluctantly sat down, seeing as what happened last night surely wouldn't go unspoken about. He looked at me, his kind, forest-green eyes inviting me to talk.

I took yet another shaky breath. He seemed to catch up on my anxiety, his expression soft with a sense of worry. I parted my lips, tempted to let it all out. But I couldn't. I couldn't tell him how shitty my life really was. He didn't deserve that.

"It wasn't a nightmare, was it?"

My gaze dropped, in opposition to my heartbeat picking up. Flashcards of memories flew through my head, a variety of painful fragments swirling around. The lump in my throat grew bigger with each passing second, and so did the liquid grief that pooled behind my eyes. I shook my head, that being the only answer I could give.

"Then what was it— no, why was it?"

Why? Because my parents clearly didn't spare a single glance at the job description that came with becoming parents. Or with owning a dog. Or both. Especially both. "I don't think you'd want to know..."