Confide In Me| Paused

Coffee-pt2

Inspiration song for this chapter-

The other side- Ruelle

Wires-the neighbourhood

♡Eli

We step inside the house, Cooper making her way to the seat beside Amara.

As I walk through the threshold, my gaze immediately falls upon the inviting dining table, adorned with an array of mouth-watering dishes.

Plates filled with grilled chicken and roasted vegetables adorn one end. The aroma of herbs and spices fills the air, making my stomach growl.

As I approach the table, Luke and Jordan join me, their faces brimming with excitement. Luke, always the jokester, playfully nudges my shoulder.

"Looks like Clara went all out today, huh?" he teases, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

But amidst the playfulness, anger creeps through. He's angry, not sad or worried, he's just angry.

I wouldn't count on my observations, though. My brain is clouded right now.

Jordan chuckles in agreement, his tall frame towering over our group ever so slightly at 6'4.

"She's always been surprisingly good at cooking and other activities, right Luke?" Jordan grins.

"Fuck off. Nothing happened. End.of.fucking.story."He snaps back.

Like a little kid trying to defend themselves.

"Luke?" I ask, curious about what Isabella had whispered to him at the staircase.

"Yea, sugar cube?"

"Fuck off I'm not your sugar cube."

Honestly, if it were anytime but now I'd tolerate Luke's bratty mouth.

The comment is innocent enough, but it strikes a chord deep within me.

I can't seem to shake the feeling that something is amiss, and it gnaws at my conscience.

Something's not right.

"Would you prefer sugar daddy?" He asks, seemingly curious.

"Although your offer seems intriguing I'll pass, princess. I'm a luxury you can't afford."

I take a seat, not concerning myself with the remark Luke probably threw back at me.

As the conversation progresses, I try to focus on the words being exchanged around me, but my mind slips away.

Each syllable becomes white noise, drowning out any attempt to comprehend the discussion at hand.

My attention is consumed by the thought of what happened to her.

A pang of disappointment strikes my chest, leading to a loss of appetite that becomes a physical ache.

The food on my plate looks unappetizing, its flavors muted. My hunger fades into the background as my mind races through a million questions, seeking answers that elude me.

I try to engage in the conversation, to contribute as I would normally.

But my words stumble and the sentences falter.

It's as if my entire being is absorbed in this newfound knowledge, rendering me incapable of participating in the present moment.

I feel alienated, trapped within the confines of my thoughts. Again and again. A continuous cycle.

Luke notices my sudden withdrawal and attempts at conversation, questioning my distant gaze.

Even though he presumably already knows why I'm not myself. Or at least not who I pretend to be.