The Lion's Den

- 3 - a box of red cakes - 3 -

Aiden's outfit ^^^^

Aiden's Pov

After tossing and turning the whole night after waking up once again in cold sweat, the shrill ring of my cheap alarm clock almost sounds pleasant, putting an end to my misery and a start to my day. Well, doesn't that sound depressing

I should be used to this, it's the same every night. Exhaustion takes over my body and allows the terrors that I try so hard to push down during the day plague my mind, making me wake up in freight with a thundering heart in the early morning hours.

Groaning, I shrug the covers off my body and jump up with as much energy I can muster, ready to take the day by storm. Yeah, you say that and then just end up sitting on the couch the whole day with a tub of ice-cream in your hands watching reruns of old telenovelas

Ignoring the voice in the back of my head, I strip my shorts and get in the shower, allowing the water to run over my head and down my body, releasing some of the tension my tight muscles held and washing away the fragments of recollection about my nightmares. Sometimes I wonder if I'm crazy, not the good kind, because I believe not everyone has such a chatty subconscious as I do but as much as I hate to admit it, this little voice is what helps me keep my sanity after so much time alone. Nahh we're too sexy to be cray cray - okay, definitely insane.

As I get out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel I can't help but stare at the reflection staring back at me on the foggy mirror, not even recognizing the dull eyes that look back. Hell, when did my mornings become this sorrowful? With that though in mind I hurry to brush my teeth and get dressed, putting on some blue jeans, a tank top and a white, cozy cashmere sweater to keep me warm in the cold November air.

Making sure I grab my phone and earbuds, I walk out the door and double lock it, almost tripping in the process due to the untied shoelaces of my white air forces.

Today I plan on passing by Ms. Murphy's bookshop to see how the sweet oldie is doing, which after countless days spent with her, debating back and forth over best bubblegum flavours and biggest read flags on men over 70 years old, became one of the most important people in my life - not that there are many. She was one of the only people in my life that didn't expect me to be someone I'm not or that doesn't force anything on to me, and for that I am forever grateful. Besides, she makes a mean apple pie.

On the way to her shop, my stomach complains of it's lack of content, compelling me to stop in front of a small bakery and consider going in, which I do. As soon as I step inside I'm pleasantly hit with a waft of heated air, making me shiver due to the contrast with the freezing weather outside. I instantly order my usual, a large latte with oat milk and a lot of cinnamon, but my eye catches sight of the fresh red velvet muffins, making my mouth water. Last night I made a pretty hefty amount of cash, enough to last me at least two weeks if I spend it wisely, but what's the harm in one muffin?

"Could you add a red velvet muffin to the latte?"

The barista nods at me as he opens the sliding glass which separated me and my precious muffin.

"Total is 5.90€"

Digging through my pockets I almost feel like screaming when I notice that only 3.40€ graced our presence, seems like we're not getting our muffin after all.

"Oh I don't- c-could it be only the latte please?" Seriously? You decide right now to stutter? You beat up ugly fat dudes for a living but can't get a grip on your social anxiety, pathetic. I hear a chime at the top of the door indicating a new costumer has entered the shop but I don't bother looking to see them, my brain already being scattered with millions of negative thoughts at once. Muttering a quiet thanks I quickly grab my latte, aiming to get out of the shop which seemed to be getting smaller and more suffocating by the second the quickest I can.