Psychotic Love [AHS Character x Reader]

8. It Seems We're Fucked, My Dear

**A/N**
Surprise, bitch! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me ;) I kid, I kid. It's been a hot ass minute, but I've just been feeling insanely uncreative and mentally blocked. 59k reads, are you KIDDING! Thank you guys so much for the love and support, and I LOVE reading the comments, they crack me up! Originally I wasn't gonna do chapter 8 because I've never written a gay love scene, but we're all inclusive in this house and we've gotta get out of our comfort zone sometime. So don't judge me too hard if I fail. Or judge me, it happens.
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Xx
Kayla

          Everything that happened, from the moment the screeching of the alarms assaulted your ears to now, lying in the dim, stifling bedroom you were given, has been etched into your brain, refusing to be forgotten or pushed aside. Two days ago you were blissfully unaware of the potential doomsday that lay on the precipice of reality, mid-flight home to California, having just finished the last leg of your book tour. You were exhausted, irritable, and practically counting down the minutes til you were able to pass out in your king-size bed.
The plane lands and you gather your carry on, which holds your laptop, cell phone, wallet, and chargers, and you depart, bobbing and weaving silently through the throng of passengers, keeping your head down and your pace quick. The last thing you need is to be recognized in public. Luckily it doesn't happen often, just the occasional spark of recognition, but you sure as fuck don't want to be stopped while you're  practically dead on your feet.
          By the time you reach your condo and stretch out in bed it's already one-thirty. Your eyelids are incredibly heavy, as if weights have been attached to their insides, but each time your eyes close, the rope of dread in your gut winds tighter and tighter, the fuse on a stick of dynamite that's just been lit. Where it had come from you don't know, but you can't shake it. Despite your lack of sleep you kick the duvet off you and groan before sitting up against the pillows, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you reach for your cell. You scroll through your contacts quickly and press on the number most dialed, your boyfriend, Sam. You'd been trying most of the day to reach him, paying for in-flight WiFi so you'd be available if he texted you, but so far, crickets. You smile down at his contact photo; it was taken this past Halloween of the two of you together. Sam had gone as Link, from The Legend of Zelda, and you'd gone as Princess Zelda, the scruff of a beard you're sporting a nice contrast to the bright pink, white, and blue of the dress. It was your favorite photo, the happiness on your faces making your chest tighten.
You press on the phone icon and lift it to your ear, the trilling of the call going through a stab at your already frayed nerves, and you force yourself to relax. "Hey, this is Sam. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you!" You let out an irritated sigh at his voicemail greeting and clear your throat.
"Hey, babe, it's me. I've tried calling you all day, which I know is annoying and I'm sorry. But I wanted to let you know that I'm back home now and that the tour was pretty successful. Schuster and Schuster wants at least two more books, which I'm pretty ecstatic about. Just call me when you get this, okay? I love you."
You end the call with a sigh and connect it to its charger, then force yourself to lie back down. Your anxiety is obviously just lack of sleep clouding your brain, and you know good and well that letting it get to you isn't going to help anything. Determined, you force your eyes to stay closed as you allow your mind to wander. You're snoring softly within minutes.