𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞 ━ seaycee.

𝐱𝐢𝐢𝐢. shamu

┌─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┐

chapter thirteen
sorry, i love you.

└─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┘
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┌─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┐

The incessant sound of the alarm she had absentmindedly set at five o'clock in the morning blared through the small studio-sized apartment as her eyes, only seconds later, shot open, stirring in her bed as she thoughtlessly sat up.

Kaycee, unfortunately for her, found out what an incredibly stupid decision it was to sit up all-too-late as all the blood in her body instantly came rushing up to her brain.

Like most things, she really should've thought that one through.

Her head pounded as she pressed her palm to her throbbing temple. A pained groan erupted from the back of her throat as she touched the side of her head, pressing her eyes closed, the events of the previous night flooding back into her head.

All she could really recall from the previous night was the sound of the small bell hung above the café doors every time someone walked in, the scent of finely-ground coffee beans she knew all-too-well, and the not-so-subtle sounds of crickets that crept in the night.

After lying to her heart-of-gold co-worker the other day and skipping her shift at the coffee shop, she couldn't sleep at all, tossing and turning in her bed, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

She couldn't get a single second of shut-eye.

Guilt kept her up at night.

It felt as if something was burning through the back of her throat, searing through her skin.

It felt as if something was weighing down on her, snaking its arms around her and swallowing her whole.

That, paired with the fact that she had shut out the person she had fallen in love with and the person she had called her best friend ever since they were in middle school for no reason other than her own stubbornness and stupidity, made her feel like she was suffocating.

So, out of pure and utter guilt, Kaycee called up her complete angel of a co-worker and told him that she'd, without a doubt, cover one of his late-night shifts at the café-if he'd let her, of course.

Tre de Rego, with no questions asked, let her. It wasn't exactly everyday that his co-worker out-of-the-blue offers to take over one of his late-night shifts, undoubtedly the shift he liked the least.

Although taking up one of his late-night shifts had taken away some of the guilt that took its time as it ate her up and tore her down from the inside, it had tired her out to the point that the second she walked into her apartment, she passed out on her bed, still in the same clothes she came to her shift in, socks still on her small feet.

Nothing short of drained and sleep-deprived, she sheepishly shut off her alarm, slowly opening one of her eyes as she swept her eyes over the screen.

5:02 AM, Thursday

Almost as if she was counting down the seconds 'til the clock struck midnight and the sun came out from its spot in the heavens, she closed her eyes as she collected her thoughts.

Today was the day.

It's been two days since she last heard from him-two days.