Slip Up

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The rest of the night went smoothly. The morning, however, did not.

You awoke with a pounding headache, and began to regret drinking so much the night before. In retrospect, maybe you should have taken today off of work. There wasn't much you could do about it now, so you groaned and used all of the force you were capable of to get out of bed.

Making your way over to the kitchen was quite the task. It didn't help that you stubbed your toe on the corner of a table near the beginning of your journey. Eventually you managed to pour yourself a glass of water and grab a couple of ibuprofen to help with the pounding in your head. You glanced over at the microwave clock, only to realize that it was quarter to nine.

Shit, I'm gonna be late, you panicked. After a moment of silence, you came to your senses and rushed to your room to go put something presentable on. You burst into the bathroom, splashed some water on your face, and took a few seconds to brush your teeth, before you grabbed your bag and ran out the door.

You noticed that the streets were packed with more than the usual early morning traffic as you made your way to the small coffee shop that you worked at. You were too occupied by trying to figure out what was happening to notice the dark figure in front of you before it was too late.

In seconds you were on the ground, and the contents of your bag that you had neglected to zip up in your haste were scattered.

"I'm so sorry!" you yelped, trying to gather your belongings as quickly as possible. Pedestrians grumbled, as they had to step around you to get by. The stranger bent down to try to help, but you had already placed all of your possessions back in the safety of your bag. "Thank you," you mumbled absentmindedly as you zipped up the pouch, and sprung up from the sidewalk. Your mind was focused elswhere. You hurriedly waved to the stranger without even sparing him a second glance, and were back on your way, this time speed walking at a much safer pace.

The stranger who had "accidentally" bumped into you looked at the prize in his hands. He ran his hand along the smooth leather skin of your wallet, unfolding it so he could look inside. Cold eyes scanned the lines of cards until one caught his attention. He pulled out your driver's license, and began to soak in the information. It was all right here: your name, address, date of birth, and even your height was on here, including a helpful picture. Not that he had forgotten what you looked like. The traces of a smile graced his features. Interesting.

Fixation [Yandere Sasuke x Reader]Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora