𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ᵗᵐʳ ᵃᵘ

Chapter 24: Two Days

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Two days later. Two days of ignoring Minho and pretending he didn't exist. Two days of non-stop nightmares and hallucinations. Two days of only three hours of sleep. Two days of blood. Two days of nothing but water and gum.

Minho was asleep by the time I returned to my room the other night.

To A

I fucking found you. You can't run. You'll be in my hands soon enough.
I wouldn't have done what I did but what other choice did you give me? Right, none.
They don't love you. You're all alone and I'll be the only one to ever love you.
When I saw you in the pharmacy, I thought that it couldn't be you. But then I saw you again and again.

What. The actual. Shit.

Who is this? How'd they find me? I mean, what did I do to them? Did I do something? I don't think I did. Oh god. Oh god. Am I really being stalked? I mean, all the signs are there. The photos. The letters. The more I read, the tighter I hold the page.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I'll be the only one to ever love you.
I can't take back what I did, but I can give you the life you deserve.
Minho doesn't love you.
He never will.
Hana isn't your friend.
Nor is Thomas.
Or Newt.
Or any of them.
Only I know how to truly love you.
Don't you want to give your children the life you always wanted?

Rip.

The page ripped in half.

I had held it so tightly that it ripped. I can't breathe. Fuck. No. No. No. This isn't real. It's a hallucination. Nothing's real. This is all fake.

The ache in my chest is dull but it won't be for long. My eyes start to tear. Was the letter right? Do they not love me? Who is this person? Do I know them? They definitely know me. I race to the bathroom.

Don't cry in front of them.

Dull pain turned into sharpened knives as I shut the bathroom door behind me. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror. Blonde hair. Pale skin. Green eyes. I looked the same way that I always had. But I didn't recognise myself. It was like I was staring at a stranger. But that stranger was locked inside the mirror, trying to escape.

Where was the girl who tried who wanted to be a fashion designer? Where was the girl who wanted to avenge he mother after her death was mistaken as suicide? The girl who was unmistakably happy for the last year? She wouldn't be like this. She wouldn't be crying because of a letter.

If I never broke up with him, would he never have killed her? Two years of trying to help him through school only to lose the person who I was closest to. I never served as a real purpose to him. Only as a distraction. Everything I did those two years was for him.

A solitary tear turned to two, then three, then four, then a whole fucking flood as I sank to the floor and cried. Every heartbreak, every disappointment, every piece of sadness and resentment I'd harboured poured out in a river of grief edged with anger. I'd bottled up so much these last three years that I was afraid I'd drown in a wave of my own emotions.

Cold, hard tile dug into the backs of my thighs. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't spend the rest of my days pretending to be happy. I had to learn to control my own life - even if it meant destroying my old one. I had to erase every bad fucking memory out of my head.

No Grayson. No Death of my Mother's. And No Minho.

I was hollow and brittle, a million shattered pieces that hurt too much to pick up. I don't remember what it's like to feel like myself. I guess that's what's happened if you pretend to be someone you're not for three years. I had pretended to be happy. I pretended nothing was wrong. But now look where it got me.

Crying on the fucking bathroom floor. Over some dickheads and some stupid fucking letters.

Knock, Knock.

"Anika?" Someone asked, but their voice was too muffled by the door and my sobs. "I'm coming in, and I don't care what you say." I heard the door open but my vision was too blurry to see who it was. I only saw the blurry outlines of a person opening the door and crouching next to me.

They pulled me close and into a tight hug. I just hugged back. I didn't care who it was. I was a sobbing mess. I needed warmth and comfort that I'd been too afraid to ask for. I cried into the person's shoulder and I could feel their shirt dampening. They traced circles on my back with their fingers.

"It's alright," the person whispered. "Just breathe, you'll be okay." The person's voice was oddly soothing. I wiped the tears from my eyes and I saw it was Minho who was crouched in front of me. I sniffed and moved away from him. I was still hyperventilating.

"Sorry," I coughed out. "You know. For getting her arrested."

"Anika, it's alright, okay? I just need you to breathe. In and out," He said, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Think of anything happy."

"It's kinda hard to do that right now, Minho," I hiccupped, trying to slow my breaths but nothing worked.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"No."

"Do you trust me enough to help you?" He asked again.

"I guess so." I coughed again.

"Promise you won't get mad at me."

"Why would I get mad at-" Minho pressed his lips to mine.

Minho kissed me.

What.

The.

Actual.

Holy hotness.

He pulled away and looked me in the eyes. My breathing had calmed down A LOT. But suddenly it got really hot in the bathroom.

"I-" I was too shocked to speak.

"I read that it sometimes helps," He whispered. "I guess it does," He said again, referring to how my breathing was close to normal soon.

Minho kissed me.

"Yo, Minho you gonna play Mario Kart with us-" Aris asked but stopped speaking when he walked into the bathroom and saw me and Minho suspiciously close to each other. His eyes narrowed and he raised an eyebrow.

"Uh... Yeah." He stood up. He left the bathroom. I was frozen on the floor. What the fuck just happened.

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A/N: Don't ask because i have no answers