𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐲-𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

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I've been up all night, riddled with anxiety and fear

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I've been up all night, riddled with anxiety and fear. I was downright exhausted on the ride home, but now, as I lie on my new bed in my new bedroom, I can't sleep a wink.

"it was all a fucking game"

"she's no one."

Was he protecting me? Maybe. The words came out so naturally for him like it didn't pain him to say those things about me. I'm losing my mind.

3:45am. I'm never going to rest, I've accepted it. I have too many questions. Who were those people? How could he not protect me? Why would telling me be a bad thing? I hadn't noticed his disappearances before, shamefully. Yet now, I fear that's all I will think about.

Racing anything is one of my biggest fears. I love going on a ride with Adonis because he keeps me safe. Yet, when a car flies by me going terrifying speeds, I want to vomit.

How will I sleep at night knowing he's risking his life? I assume that's where he gets his money from, but it doesn't justify it. Whoever that man was earlier, he had nothing but evil lurking behind his eyes. There's no way he's only racing, hanging out with a man like that.

The others seemed generally normal, but him. I don't think the feeling of his stare is going to leave anytime soon. I peer over my shoulder to make sure he's still sleeping. His arms are wrapped around my waist, caging me in, and I feel like I'm suffocating.

I won't wake him up, I know he needs to rest. I will stick to my notes app, writing every possible question down to ask him tomorrow. I have no inkling to be mad, I'm just upset.

I don't like this feeling. Some days I wake up and want to throw all of my progress out of the window, but I know better. Unfortunately, I need to grow up. I'm not a sixteen-year-old girl again sneaking out to have a stranger buy me alcohol and rot in bed for days.

4:05am. I'm never going to sleep. I've accepted that I will be up until sunrise. I wiggle my body out of Adonis' grasp, careful not to disrupt him. If I'm going to sulk in my thoughts, I might as well grab a drink.

The smell of coffee brewing seeps through the apartment as I sneak my way downstairs. My brows knit together as I take the steps two at a time, curious as to who is up so late, or up so early.

As I round the corner of the stairs, Damian's silhouette appears against the island. He's leaned up against it, head in his hands with a white mug placed beside him. Presumably coffee. He's in a crisp black suit, furthering my curiosity. "Good morning." I rub my eyes to make sure I'm not dreaming.

His head pops up as if I startled him like I've said, CIA stealth. "Shit, V. What are you doing up?" He rubs his hands down his face, rising to his full height. "I should be asking you that. I couldn't sleep, what's your excuse?" I brush past him, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

"I just got home. Works kicking my ass." I purse my lips, wracking my brain to when he's ever talked about his job. "When did you start?" I lean into the sink, clutching the mug in my hands. "I just started. Not by choice. My dad's company, to be precise."

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⏰ Last updated: May 14 ⏰

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