𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧

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I apologise for the late updates. These chapters drain me sometimes and they take a long time to write because of my mental exhaustion. I'll try to speed up my regular updates from now on.

I'm trying my best.

~~~

Blaire 》

The first thing I notice in the mirror is my messed up hair and dirty face. How did I fall asleep without even washing my face thoroughly from all this dirt? Did I drown in that mud puddle?

I look disgusting. I'm surprised Levi didn't puke when he saw me. Or when i was close enough to peck his cheek. But I'm even more surprised at how he let off his guard around me. I can understand how hard it is for one to let down their guard and armor around other people after being so used to having it up twenty-four/seven. Which is why I tried to tame my dumbfounded face when I saw that singular tear running down his cheek. In all honesty, I'm curious at to what could have made him so upset.

He's a hard person to get in his feels, but he's not a hard person to piss off. He seems like a hard shell with spotless, rock and steel solid surface. Whoever or whatever broke this harsh shell must be something devastating. Otherwise, I can't think of a single thing that'd make Levi himself cry.

OK, cry is hardly what he did but if I keep referring to it as a 'cry' I'll break harsh mental image I have of him in my mind.

We've met over three weeks ago, almost a month and yet I still feel like I knew him for much longer. I know absolutely nothing about him, but I want to. And I'm gonna make sure to ask him.

Because, come on. You wanna tell me you aren't at least a bit curious about his life? He appeared out of no where whilst nonna spend majority of her life living here next to me, before I was even born and he doesn't have any siblings, haven't seen his parents around nor anyone at all.

Not to mention, he has a freaking cat. Despite giving off 'I'm totally a dog person and I'll chew your face off if you talk to me' type of vibe. But I guess not everyone is what they seem to be.

I begin to strip down into my underwear and bra. I wouldn't say they're uncomfortable, but I can't bear anything touching my skin right now. All I want to do is to dispose of my skin and buy a new clean one with no dirt or bruises or whip marks on them. My hands go down the the whip marks, caressing them tenderly, fearing that impacting pain that will result if I were to touch it in any other way but gentle.

Sudden dryness overtakes my throat and I feel like my esophagus is decorated with sand paper. I think of drinking the tap water but then I chicken out and just accept the dryness of my throat. I turn around, checking for the scar I saw last time I showered. It appeared out of nowhere. Plus, everytime I look at my back, all I could think of is how I was burnt with a scorching hot pan and the next day I was fine with no pain or scars.

I have no idea what to think. Whether to be grateful that such pain has been lifted off my back -literally- or to fear what might have happened to make me heal in inhumane speed.

I turn back, facing the mirror and I unfasten my bra, sliding the straps off my shoulders and ridding myself from the lacy tightness. There's a red mark under my boobies, where the base of the bra rested. I sigh before ridding myself of my undies and hopping into the shower. The hot spray hits my back and I lunge forward with a hiss. Goddamn, that's way too hot even for me.

After fixing the temperature of the water, I relax under the water and getting to finally shower and clean my dirty skin feels like a reward for existing.

I have no personal toiletries here but thank god nonna has spares in every bathroom in the house. I internally take notes to hug her extra tight when I do see her. I exit the shower and wrap a towel around me so I won't get cold and I slide the cabinet door open, seeing the various toothbrushes, combs, tampons and a pack of tiny, mini loofahs. This is like a dream come true.