Chapter 8

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The insomnia has come back.

After Harry left last night, I went up to my room and stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours.

Maybe I was giving it too much thought but the last time a boy payed the slightest of attention to me, everything around me collapsed.

I kept waking up during the night feeling cold, with my back wet from sweat. Nightmares flooding with people that I used to call my friends all looking down at me and laughing; enjoying my misfortune caused by him.

Steffan.

He had come into my life in a time of need. Need for attention, need for approval, need for love.

And I did everything wrong, clutching my every decision and matching my every action, to his.

I gave myself the title of liability.

I was collateral damage to his decisions; it was far less consuming to blame my mishap on him than to reflect on my share for the wreckage.

I looked at my phone and the clock read 7:03.

"Ugh." I groaned out loud. It wasn't that early, but I had barely gotten any sleep.

I got up from my bed and looked outside the window. The morning was foggy, and the top of the trees were barely visible, mostly covered with a grey-ish mist.

I was going to head back to my bed and wallow some more on my misery, when I noticed big yellow machinery entering the garden.

Various figures were making their way in and out, all carrying tools, sacks and wearing yellow helmets.

Then, three men wearing casual clothes and no helmets, walked into the scene.

Two brunettes, one white haired.

"Charles." I whispered to myself, curiosity waking up in me.

I changed into sport wear to have the excuse of exercising when I came up to the three men, and headed down stairs.

I almost miss Claire sitting in the kitchen island on my way out, because I was practically sprinting towards the garden.

"Morning." I said, stepping into the kitchen a little out of breath.

There was a cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of her and she was reading a newspaper so big, it covered her all.

"Blair? Dear, you're up early." Claire looked at her watch. "Do you want breakfast? Have a seat." She said, folding the newspaper so that it wasn't hiding her face anymore.

She looked stunning.

It was barely seven thirty and she was already dressed, hair and make-up done and based on the empty plate on her left, she had already had breakfast.

"Early, indeed." I said taking a seat in front of her. "I was actually gonna go back to bed, but I noticed all the people out in the garden."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Did the noise woke you up? I completely forg-"

"No, no." I interrupted her. "I was already awake, I meant that curiosity got the best of me. What are they building?"

She gave me a small grin. "Curiosity? Is that the best you could've come up with?"

"What?"

"Oh Blair, please. There are more than twenty men, strong young men, right outside your window and you're suddenly interested in 'construction'?" She asks air quoting the last word.

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