GRANITE

022

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CAM THE PLANT EXPERT

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SAPPHIRE HAIR WAS SPRAWLED ACROSS THE

dark grey cushions as app after app was opened and then closed on Freya's phone. It wasn't until the fourth rotation in five minutes that Freya let out a sigh locking her phone and setting it on her sternum. The sunlight had cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating all the naked shelves Freya had yet to fill despite living in this home for months now. It's emptiness felt like a reflection of her own self in this moment.

She stared at the blank spaces in contemplation, trying her best to envision what she could fill the spaces with. She wanted something that would liven up the space, make it feel a little more like home. Somewhere her thoughts couldn't loom and expand until the room was shrouded in darkness and the air wouldn't be syphoned from her lungs.

Her eyes widened in excitement as she envisioned the perfect additions, knowing exactly who to call to help her find the ideal choices. In light speed, she scoops her phone back up from its resting place and opens the conversation.

SHORT KING

11:38: are you busy?

11:39: not at the moment
everything okay?

Her stomach swirled at his immediate concern, picturing his pinched brows as we waits for her answer. She almost feels guilty for not phrasing her text differently.

11:40: wanna do some shopping
with me today?

11:40: my house looks sad and
I need help making it happier

11:41: I'd love to :) pick
you up in ten?

11:41: see u soon ;)

Freya scrambles up from her couch, forgetting her not-fully-healed ankle and absolutely eating shit on her living room floor. She winces from the pain, muttering curses as she slowly pulls herself up and hobbles her way into the bathroom. She recoils at the sight of her hair, how could she forget it was hair wash day?

She sprays her hair down with dry shampoo, growing more and more frustrated as her roots don't seem to look any less greasy. Tossing the can absentmindedly behind herself, she separates her hair down the middle. She ties off her two braids and tosses on a beanie in hopes it will hide the monstrosity on top of her head.

She checks the time on her phone, shaking her hands in panic. There's NO WAY it's already been five minutes. She quickly rifles through her cosmetic bag, ferociously dabbing concealer where she needs it and coating her lashes with a decent layer of mascara. Her phone buzzes from its place on the counter but she doesn't hear it, ripping her shirt from her body on the way to her bedroom.

She grabs for a simple black skirt and slouchy sock, sliding those on as she tears through her closet for a sweater to match. She freezes at the sound of a knock on her door. Her bones are buzzing so much with excitement she grabs the grey sweater from the hanger in front of her and limps over to her front door. She starts to open it with a wide, gleaming smile.

Camren looks up from his phone with a smile of his own but as his eyes meet hers, her face drops. She scrambles to cover her chest with the sweater still clutched in her hands. Her face and body are on fire and she wishes the world would open beneath her and swallow her whole.