Subterranean | H.S.

S20

1/2 of the double update. Make sure to read it before jumping to the second one. 

Persephone's pov

I run into my flat, locking the door behind me. I take off my shoes, take the box out of my bag and run to my laptop. I'm breathing heavily, almost panicking. The car ride made me feel even more on edge. The whole drive I was driving past red lights, missing the right turn, which made it even longer. I don't think people in my current state of mind should be driving.

I open my laptop, for it just to be out of battery. This has to be some kind of a bad joke.

I leave it open and start looking for the charger, but fate hates me, especially today. And the search goes on until I decide to give up. I want to cry about how helpless I am. I don't want to use my phone right now, I think I'd do something stupid and call someone by accident, or pick up a call and have a talk that I don't have the energy to have.

I sit on my bed and look at my laptop and then at the little, white medicine box. I reach for it and open it. I take the little, plastic bag out of it again. I put it under the light, looking for at least one grain, but it's completely empty. 

This makes completely no sense. 

I crawl onto the bed and take a look at the bloody bandage on my foot. I unwrap it and notice that the cut isn't deep and it closed, so I don't have to worry as much about it. I lay down, thinking about the whole situation.

He can't find out that I know about it. He can't know that I took one of the boxes home with me. What am I even saying? He's going to notice that I'm gone and that I didn't clean up the mess that he did. But it's him who did it, not me. He would be stupid, not to think about it. Jack is many things, but he's not stupid. If I'd clean it up, I'd obviously notice all these drugs and I'd ask him about it. But I didn't do a single thing about it, which gives me a little chance to explain myself differently. If he'd see all of it cleaned up, he'd understand that I know. The only realistic explanation is that he wasn't in the right state of mind and didn't think about the consequences of his actions. 

So my boyfriend of four years, who I know since the first day of high school, who I lost my virginity to, who I defended in front of my best friend, who I thought I'm going to marry and have a family with is a drug addict. A drug addict that went out of the supplies this morning and now is probably buying more of it. Literally, anything could be in that little, plastic bag. Those packages could simply be just a cover for whatever was actually inside.

I can't believe this is happening to me. 

I think about all those times when he treated me like I was disgusting, just because I was a little bit tipsy after drinking some alcohol, with my friends, at work, or alone, just relaxing. But I never even smoked a cigarette, I've never done drugs. I've never lied to him about something so important. 

I don't think I'm ever going to take painkillers ever in my life.

I yawn, tired from both, the lack of sleep, and what I went through today, yesterday, and the day before yesterday. My eyes are heavy and even when I'm trying not to fall asleep, I fail. My body demands more sleep and I give in. 

I sleep until knocking wakes me up. I open my eyes and walk out of my bedroom, rubbing my puffy eyes. I open the door and in front of me is no one else but Jack. At that moment my mind wakes up and the nervous pit in my stomach comes back.

''Persephone.'' He says calmly, with a worried look on his face. He looks.. nice, too nice. His hair is slicked back and he has a black, simple suit on, with a white shirt underneath. Did I miss an occasion?