Moonstruck

13 | against my better judgement

a/n: gifting you with one more of his pov ;)

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

NASH

Twenty fucking minutes.

I get distracted by that mere amount of time and everything goes to shit. Idiot me couldn't resist the urge to dance with her.

But can you blame me? There's about a hundred woman in this room, all in expensive— worth more than my life— dresses and decently attractive, but none were enough. None are her.

My mind is so pathetic when it comes to River, to the point of obsessing over the fact that their theme this year is gold, the same color of my tuxedo's details.

When I saw her standing there, looking like a fucking goddess I knew I needed to walk over. I surely didn't miss the way one of the dirtbags she pulled to the floor earlier was ready to step in.

Though now, I realize maybe I should've swallow my damn pride and let it happen. I wouldn't watch it, that's certain, but at least we wouldn't come to this.

River stiffens next to me, her eyes fixed on her father as she seems to have gone into momentary paralyzation. A part of me wonders what's she's thinking.

But my own body betrays me before I can go into further thought on that. What I thought was over months ago, comes back like a slap in my face.

It begins with a rush through my arm, bringing it to full tension in seconds, enable to move. Then, the small twitch of my fingers. Once. Twice. Even a third time.

Quickly, my hand becomes a trembling mess and I can't do nothing to stop it. The rest of my body is completely still, except for this one part. I stare at it, brows narrowed from both irritation and annoyance.

This wasn't supposed to happen anymore.

Feeling my chest start to tighten as well, I let realisation sink into me. My gaze flickers around the room, landing once on River who's still too out of it to notice me.

Thank fuck.

I start walking away, not sure where, feeling like an ass for leaving her there alone but knowing I need to step out for a second. A little fresh air is all I need.

Mentally half-apologizing to my brother, I use his secret spot to take a minute from the spotlight. He was right, this place is perfect.

Loosening my colar, I feel the vein in my neck pop, my whole breathing stranded as I let the ends of my shirt out of the pants. Then I take deeper, slower, breaths trying to regain control.

My right hand is still shaking, though a little less, so I press it against the marble pole at the end of the balcony. Lowering my head, I focus on a main point on the floor, reciting the exercises.

Whether this building just has some insane soundproof walls, or my ears have completely gone dead, I'm not sure. Only thing I know is that except for an annoying buzzing sound, I can't hear shit.

My heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest at any time, thudding inside, which creates a pain right above it. I groan, hitting the pole once in frustration.