When things start to break

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Chapter 9:

Win rolled over for the hundredth time that night, trying to force himself to sleep.

Usually, sleep came easily for him. After years of practice, he could drop off to sleep as soon as he lay down on his bed, no matter the time. Sleep was a precious commodity, he'd learned, and wasn't something to be fretted away.

And yet, he still found himself tangled up in his sheets, staring at his ceiling in frustration.

Why couldn't he sleep?

Sitting up, he slipped out of his bed and padded to his kitchen. Ignoring the nagging voice in his head telling him that this was his fifth attempt at drinking water to calm himself, he flicked on the kitchen lights, eyes squinting into the brightness. The kitchen was spotless, the work of Bright under Win's supervision. Pausing only to let his eyes adjust, he shuffled to the sink where a glass lay drying. His hand hovered over it for a moment before he bypassed it and reached for a bowl instead. Grabbing a spoon, he marched over to his freezer and pulled out a small tub of ice cream that he'd allowed himself to buy on whim. Scooping out a generous amount, he placed the container back into the freezer before he took a seat at the kitchen. He tucked his feet beneath himself and studied the white substance that filled the bowl. He didn't usually eat ice cream, but Green swore by its milky creaminess, so who was he to doubt its de-stressing abilities?

Unceremoniously shoveling a spoonful into his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the cool and soft mush, a frown plastered on his face. He couldn't understand why he couldn't sleep. He stared at one of the tiles on the kitchen floor, his thoughts swirling about. It couldn't have been that he wasn't tired--his eyes were burning with exhaustion and his limbs felt heavy. No, it wasn't that he wasn't tired.

Maybe it was pent up stress. Win pondered the thought for a moment, It had never happened to him before, but he'd read accounts of bodyguards for high profile clients having trouble sleeping when their client's enemies took too long to strike. It made them jittery, wondering where and when the attack would be, and caused bouts of paranoia, where they saw everything as a threat to their client. Win shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. No. He didn't think that was the problem. Win wasn't guarding a political leader, or someone of particular importance. Sure, if Bright died, it'd be a shame, but there'd be no major repercussion. Plus, Win had gone months without anyone attacking his clients before and had never been bothered by it. Why start now?

Maybe he was feeling guilty about lying to Nani (and, by extension, to First ) about Bright. Tay had asked him to keep his assignment lowkey, but that didn't mean that Win couldn't have denied Bright's statement. Of course, it would have made convincing Nani harder if there were two opposing stories, but even that would have easier to fix than scrambling to ensure that chaos didn't erupt with the announcement that Win had a "boyfriend"."

Win slowly brought another spoonful up to his mouth as images of the afternoon's antics flashed through his mind. Nani's distrustful glares, the bags of clothing that Bright had refused to take back because "you've already worn it, I can't give it to my friend now" (even though Win had only worn one of the twelve outfits), the scramble to make the lie believable without letting Bright take advantage of the situation, Bright walking in on him in the dressing room, the way Bright's gaze had travelled up Win's body slowly, leaving hot trails as they devoured--

 Nani's distrustful glares, the bags of clothing that Bright had refused to take back because "you've already worn it, I can't give it to my friend now" (even though Win had only worn one of the twelve outfits), the scramble to make the lie believ...

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