Project V (Clementine X Male Reader Book 4)

Abuser

Brooklyn: Y/N.

She shakes you.

Brooklyn: Y/N. Get up, Y/N.

You: What?

Brooklyn: Wake up.

You: What time is it?

You sit up and look at the digital clock on your dresser.

You: It's two.

Brooklyn: I need you to take me home.

You: Why don't you just stay here?

You lie back down and close your eyes.

Brooklyn: You know I can't.

You groan.

Brooklyn: We shouldn't have fallen asleep.

You: Oh, but you look so cute when you sleep.

Brooklyn: Stop it, this is serious.

You: I know.

You climb out of bed and stretch.

You: Let's go before I get back in bed and fall asleep again.

You're nineteen at this time; Brooklyn is almost twenty but not quite there yet. You can make out the room in its entirety now. There's no fogginess to any of it, yet Brooklyn is still the clearest thing you can see.

You: We should just start having you pick me up instead of me pick you up.

Brooklyn: But I like it when you drive so much more.

That's different.

You: The only upside to you being older than me was you had to drive us around for a year.

You open the door and let her out of your room first. The house is dark and quiet. Everyone has retreated to their rooms and fallen asleep.

Grace: What are you doing?

Or so you thought.

You: What are you doing up?

Grace: I asked my question first?

You: We fell asleep, so I'm taking her home.

Grace: I didn't think you ever took her home. Why doesn't she just stay here?

You: I think you know why.

Grace: Right, but you're going to get bullied anyway.

Brooklyn: It'll be worse if I stay here all night.

Grace: It's not like you were doing anything. You were just sleeping.

Brooklyn: That doesn't matter.

You: Hopefully, I can get her home before they notice.

Brooklyn: They already know.

You: Maybe they don't.

Brooklyn: They know.

You know she's right.

Grace: You better get going then. Watch out for drunk drivers.

You wave your hand in the air as you walk toward the door.

You: Yeah, yeah.

Grace: I'm serious.

You slip your shoes on.

You: I'll be fine.

You let Brooklyn out of the door first and lock it behind you.