Broken

• Chapter 49 •

- ASHTON -

I haven't slept a blink. It's four in the morning, and she's in pain. The first time she whimpered and growled tonight, I got her water and assured her she was fine. But she pretended everything was okay. I know it's not, and I'd bet my dick it's due to nightmares, but I haven't pressed her about it.

This is the sixth time she has woken up after making distressed noises, and I pretend not to notice. I pretend to be asleep because I know she feels uncomfortable with me seeing her like this.

It takes everything in me not to open my eyes from my position on my less-than-comfortable chair and shake her, tell her that she's okay, that it's just a dream.

I hear her sigh in relief after realizing it's a dream. I can feel her eyes roaming around the room, grunting when she realizes where she is. Sighing again when seeing that I'm asleep and not witnessing any of her trauma. Falling asleep once again. And the process repeats itself.

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"Sleep well?"

Clementine nods. Her disheveled hair and the dark circles hanging under her eyes speak for themselves. She reaches for the notebook on the nightstand and scribbles something down. I can't help but notice how different she looks in my clothing. She insisted on having a turtle-neck hoodie before stepping out of the shower. She looks like a baby in oversized clothing.

Can you drop me home, now? I have things to do.

I clench my jaw, she looks at me expectedly. Her eyebrows knit together at my expression, she writes something else down, a little faster now.

We had a deal. I'm fine and alive. Didn't need you at all last night. Take me home or I'm calling a cab!

I bite back a laugh, she might be more stubborn than I am. And that's saying a lot. I nod but have absolutely no intention of leaving her alone, not after everything I witnessed last night.

"Breakfast first."

She huffs but nods in agreement anyway. I can see her struggling to get up from the bed, and trying to hide her struggle.

"Stay put. I'll bring it to you," I tell her.

She frowns at me and tries to stand anyway, only to have her knees give. She falls onto the floor and I rush to her side, gently grabbing her arm to help her up.

"Seriously? Don't be fucking stupid, I'll bring you breakfast. Just sit," I try my best not to show my irritation with her, but I've probably failed. Her stubbornness is simply idiotic.

She looks up at me with her usually bright eyes, and they seem so dark that it makes my heart twinge with guilt for snapping at her. She clenches her jaw, then softens her expression. A small blush spreads across her cheeks, as though she's realizing how stupid she's being.

Finally.

She bows her head stubbornly and sits back down on the bed. She scribbles something onto the notebook.

Well, if you insist on being a slave, I'll have waffles and bacon. Make it choppy.

I smirk. Glad to know her humor is still intact.