His soft hum vibrates through the space between us, the quiet chuckle he lets out against my earlobe sending a shiver down my spine. His voice is low, dangerous, as he leans in closer, his breath warm against my skin.
"You can keep lying to yourself...
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Song :Haunted | Beyoncé
𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐀 • 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐘
••••••••••••
I wake up with mascara on my pillow and a neon headache throbbing in my skull. God, I'm such a bitch when I'm hungover.
I sit up, grimacing at the makeup smeared on my face. I don't even want to see what I look like. My stomach rolls. I lean over the edge of the bed, one hand gripping the sheets, and puke like my life depends on it.
Jesus, my head hurts.
I stumble to the bathroom and stare at my reflection. My hair is matted, my mouth tastes like tequila and shame, and my skin's blotchy from crying-or puking. Who even knows at this point?
A knock at the door. My dad.
"Everything okay in there?"
I groan. "Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Peachy," I mutter. I rinse my mouth out and splash cold water on my face until the nausea settles.
Downstairs, the lights are too bright. My dad's at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, watching me like I'm made of glass.
"Late night?"
"I was at Harrison's."
"Kaia texted me. Said you went to a party."
I freeze mid-step.
Fucking Kaia.
He raises an eyebrow. "Something you want to tell me?"
I shake my head. "No."
"You've been gone for two days, Xan."
I blink. "What?"
"Kaia said you left the party with some- guy."
My stomach flips.
I left with someone?
"I don't remember," I admit, barely above a whisper.
"You don'tremember," he repeats flatly.
I stare at the floor. "I'm sorry."
He sighs like he's aged ten years. "Get some rest. We'll talk later."
Fuck.
.................
I curl up on my bed like a shrimp, staring at the ceiling. There's a faint marker stain on the corner—remnants of Kaia's "Xan was here" graffiti from grade nine. Back when things were stupid and easy.
