❛❛ IN A PARALLEL TIMELINE, DO YOU THINK WE'RE HAPPY? ❜❜
( 🌑 )
𝗠𝗶𝗸𝗲 decides to call 𝗠𝗮𝗲𝘃𝗲, abby's old babysitter on one random night begging her to help him take care of Abby while they stay at Freddy's pizzeria.
★🜸 / ❝ Keep on dreamin...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-chapter eighteen
MAEVE WOKE UP FEELING DAZED, her head resting against Mike's shoulder, but her brain struggling to function. The faint sound of the TV gave her an odd feeling as her heart began to beat fast.
The moon's beautiful colors illuminated the window, casting light on her darkened eyes.
Trying to lift her head gently, considering Mike rested his on top, Maeve succeeded, and Mike's soft breaths stopped abruptly as he woke up with a yawn.
He looked at Maeve, who appeared paranoid—legs shaking, breaths heavy, tears forming at the bottom of her eyelids. Something wasn't right.
"What's wrong?" Mike asked, his voice raspy, concern evident in his gaze. Maeve tried to brush it off. "It's... nothing. Just go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you up," she stuttered.
Mike turned toward her, placing a hand on her cheek and the other on her fidgeting hands. "Maeve, look at me. What's wrong?" he questioned. Maeve's eyes betrayed her; tears fell, and Mike quickly wiped them away with his thumb.
"Is it a nightmare?" he suggested. Maeve looked at him, her face painted with tears, but she remained silent.
Mike frowned, feeling his heart race and eyes on the verge of breaking down. "Please talk to me. I'm here, Maeve, please," he urged.
"I... feel like someone is watching me," Maeve breathed heavily. "It's haunting me, Mike. I always feel like he will get me." She cried, struggling to maintain her composure. "Maeve, don't worry. I'm here. He won't get you again. He's dead," Mike reassured her.
"He... he didn't die. I can still feel him," Maeve confessed, causing Mike's eyes to widen, his jaw clenching.
"He won't come back, Maeve. Trust me. I'll protect you with my life if that ever happens," he promised, and Maeve shook her head.
"I want to get out of here," she said, looking around, haunted by the image of him everywhere. Mike nodded, swiftly getting up. He reached out for her, holding her in his arms as he guided her out of the house.
Opening the car door, he helped her into the passenger's seat before sliding into the driver's seat. "Where do you want to go?" he asked calmly, but Maeve stayed quiet. "Do you want me to drive you home?"
Maeve shook her head. "What time is it?" she asked quietly. Mike glanced at the car's digital board. "It's 3 in the morning," he replied.
