𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ꨄ.
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𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐒, a 20 year old woman who was once known as the little girl that scared away when anyone talked to her comes back from the UK after escaping Italy 3 years...
Almost at 200 reads, thankyu all sm for all the support!
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# Ridiculous - Ariana Grande 🎧.
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"Face of an angel, mind of a killer."
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Gasping for air, i immediately sit up.
My breathes are heavy and i hold my chest as i feel the oxygen enter my lungs again slowly. Once i catch my breath again, i look around the room and see i'm in my bedroom wearing the same blazer dress i last remember putting on. My eyebrows raise and then narrow, what the fuck happened?
Was it all a dream? The question runs through my head, being proceed very slowly, slower then usual and it has me thinking whether whatever the fuck i'm feeling is making me lose some braincells.
Trying to remember what happened i notice my memory feels foggy, the only thing i can remember up to is when i saw a head in the bushes, the face was changing almost like it was reforming into something else. Yes! And that's when it changed into Josh.
"Josh?" i whisper, confusion laced in my voice. Why would it be about-"Josh!" i shout as realisation comes to me.
I immediately slap my hands to my mouth, this is 2nd dream i've had about him since i've arrived in Italy but why?
I run a hair through my hair in frustration, i should have never ever came back. Ever since I arrived, it's been nothing but hell. Firstly, the whole Rossi mafia shit and the constant reminder that i may not even be alive tomorrow. Secondly, now the nightmares about my ex.
I mean maybe this is a sign that the universe actually agrees with me for once, that Josh needs to be taken care of and they so kindly chose me to handle it.
Anyway- I don't fucking know what is happening to me but i need to figure out what to do about it fast if it means i'm going to be waking up after night terrors in a hot sweat, breathing heavily like a fucking dog or worrying about my future until i go insane.
I don't look this good to be fucking stressing over men.
Mindlessly, i look around my room and up at the wall opposite me to read the time on the clock, 1am. At a time like this, i can never get back to bed especially after being woken up. I always hate being woken up, doesn't matter who or what is it, if there's anything i care about other than myself it's my fucking sleep. Thinking about it makes me curse under my breath and memories from when i was younger start to fade in.
