Hiraeth

[52] - hope is the last one to die

LINCOLN
𖤐

168 hours. 10080 minutes. 604800 seconds.

That's how long it's been since I last saw Blake Langford. Yeah I've counted, so fucking what. Call me obsessed, not that it's a lie.

Cause that's the thing about that woman. My woman. She's infuriatingly intoxicating and magnetic. Once you meet her, you never want to forget her. You touch her, you never want touch anyone else ever again.

So to say that being this long without her has made me want to slide my head through shattered glass. If she at least had the decency to text me back but no.

Which, of course, lead me to ask (more like demand) Zach to text Russ and ask him if she heard anything about her. Just a simply 'she's okay' would be fine.

Not really. But it'd be better than fucking nothing. When she returns to me, we're going to have a serious conversation about how this relationship should work.

"Housekeeping" Nash knocks on the door.

I frown at my brother's nonsense, "The fuck?"

"Cmon dude, best line from JJ" he bursts through the door, probably seeing the confused look on my face as he adds, "Outer Banks, no? Jeez, no wonder you got mercilessly dumped"

"I didn't get dumped." I argue.

"The left on seen messages say otherwise" he points towards my phone and I flip him off.

"That's what gave it away for you? Talk about the non leaving the house for a week. It's getting sad at this point, bro." Jacob shakes his head as he enters the room too.

"Good thing though, we're the best brothers in the world so we called for back up" Nash shoots me a wink and that's when I know he's done some shit.

Nova and Devon appear from behind the two younger ones with looks on their faces that have me digging my head in the pillow.

"No."

"Jeez man, you look rough" Devon whistles.

"Fuck you."

"Take me on a date first" he scoffs, crossing his arms before adding "Men these days, are never gentlemen"

Before anyone can comment whatever shit Devon is saying, Nova walks up to my window and opens the curtain. Light enters the room, blinding me, and I groan loudly.

"I hate you."

"Stop being a baby" she grabs my arm and pulls me out of bed, with a hidden strength I didn't know she had. "When was the last time that you showered?"

"Hey, I don't smell that bad." I lift my shirt to check and, well, she might not be that wrong.

"And I'm Beyoncé" she rolls her eyes, shoving me into the bathroom, saying "Be fast, I will chose some clean clothes for you"

Ignoring the fact that I'm being treated like a child, I get into the shower and let the water fall down my body. My sore muscles tighten at the coldness until it gets used to it and I start washing myself.