𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀.ᐟ 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀

i'm so glad i got to hold you

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chapter forty-three: i'm so glad i got to hold you

tw - philip banks being philip banks

(but in all seriousness there are some sensative themes including mentions of abuse and degrading, so please continue with caution and care!)

{a/n:
puuhleassee don't be a silent reader!! commenting and voting are greatly appreciated. enjoy :)}

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    ADAM'S FINGERS SWIFTLY fly over the Super Nintendo controller as his eyes were glued to the TV screen in front of him. He was gnawing on his lower lip, determination sparkling in his sapphire eyes as he polishes off a race on Grand Turismo.

His teeth release from the bruied skin as his lips curl up into a smirk, his pixelated Dodge Viper GTS-R crossing the finish line.

"Suck on that, Lex." The boy says to no one in particular, considering he was sitting alone in the Banks' den. His blue eyes wander to the clock on the wall.

It was nearing three o'clock in the morning.

Adam could not sleep. He tried everything from listening to white noise and taking melatonin to using old myths like heating up a glass of warm milk in the microwave. But his body was running on an anxious surge that he didn't seem to be in control of.

It's been almost five hours since the little incident with Vera and he could not stop thinking about it.

So, the boy resorted to playing some video games on his Nintendo until his eyes grew so weak that he'd be forced to fall asleep. Those plans quickly changed when he saw that his old Hawk teammate was online.

They've been screwing around on different games for the past couple of hours, Adam somehow winning every single time.

  Feeling relaxed now, he lets the built up tension in his muscles release and he leans back on the legs of the maroon velvet couch. Before he can settle for a moment, though, he sees his fathers personal PC screen light up in the darkness of the basement study.

'You've got mail!' Came a perky man's voice over the muffled speaker.

Remembering that he didn't sign out of AIM before he left for Westbrook, Adam lifts himself off the carpeted floor and walks over to his father's executive desk.

LarsonLéLicentious33: you asswipe.

Adam chuckles.

LarsonLéLicentious33: i had that one in the bag

He lifts his leg slightly and perches half of his body on the wooden surface, leaning over to the keyboard to type.

CakeEater99: Bro, you were in 14th place the entire race. You only caught up 'cause like 8 people left the game, dipshit.

LarsonLéLicentious33: oh shut up. if i wanted to hear what an asshole sounded like, i'd just fart

CakeEater99: What?