Best Friends with the Player ✔️ (The Player #1)

Chapter Twenty Six-

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"You need anything else?" Daemon asked me as he placed another pillow underneath my head. His eyes wonder my body in concern before he places his hand against my head again.

I shake my head. "Now go back to school," I said as I remove his hand from my head.

His brows crease with worry. "I don't think I should," he argues as he sits next to me, on the edge of the bed.

"Go to school, Daemon. Really."

"You don't look so good, San. I should stay."

"Daemon, get your ass to school now! Or you're not going to play the season. Coach told you that you shouldn't skip anymore, remember?"

He nods, his expression torn. "Fine. Let me just get some wet towels for you, okay?"

I nod. "Then go to school."

"Whatever," he says before he disappears.

There was the Daemon I'd fallen for.

He was always there for me. Always.

He looked after me. Took care of me.

"Here you go," he says as he places the wet towel on my head. "Your medication's here on the vanity," he adds as he places the packet there. "Call me if you need anything, San. Anything at all."

I nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Now go."

He nodded, expression still torn, before he places a kiss on my head and turns around to leave.

"Love you Dae," I call after him.

"Love you too San," he adds as he glances back. He looks at me for ten seconds before he leaves.

I put on a shaky, wery smile before sleep takes me hostage.

* * *

Some people believe that dreams are premonitions of what will come to be. That whatever you dream will happen in the near future or at least have a likelihood to happen.

What I dreamt as soon as I drifted off made my blood run cold.

I was kneeling, on hard, cold ground that bit my skin as the cold ran through me. Something covered my face, a sack probably. The dirty, musty smell burned my nose, as darkness flooded me.

As far as I can tell, my hands were bound tightly behind me with a rope of some sort, digging into my skin.

Undeniable fear hit me as I wondered what was happening.

My breathing came out shallow, as I trued to calm myself down.

The sound of custom-made Italian shoes is heard as a door is pulled open and shut soon after.
Ten steps and the footsteps stop.