I was startled awake by someone hugging me. Clearing my eyes and focusing on the words that were whispering so close to my ear, I guess it was Matthew.
He's holding me so tightly against him like I'll crack and turn into dust in the air if he lets go for a second. He hesitates to pull back and when he does, he looks relieved. His hand brushed back my hair and pins it under his palms.
He leans forward and I feel a warm kiss on the center of my forehead. I am too stunned and fogged to react. I stare at him dumbfounded. "Y/N, who was that?" He whispers and I don't know who that was either.
I was so caught up in the moment and was actually listening to his words in obedience to act rebellious and turn around to get a look at his face. To push him, slap him, yell at him. I chose the worst option possible.
Wait. He knows? I am more straight and much more focused. "I... I don't know," my genuine answer to my life on the line. He nods. He nods like he truly understands me.
"How about you bring me to your workplace. I'll make a report to your manager so you could be safer." I almost agreed immediately but held back a moment. He looks as if he saw the hesitation and pleaded with his eyes.
My job felt like a joke. Straight out of a comedy movie. If I were to walk up to someone and tell them I worked under G.D.D., they would think I am a fool to waste their time. It's something that got made up in a few seconds and applied in a poster. A poster I trusted and moved out in the sake of getting my life in my hands and guiding it to a healthier life.
And this is where it all ended.
So I nodded. I said "Yes." He was smiling and went back to hugging me again. We soon dozed off in the same bed.
We were back at the alleyway, and Matthew followed far behind. He struggled to get here while I walked forward like I'm used to this optical on the way. "I thought your office was there?" He said. I only shook my head in response.
I reached the door under the sign and opened it. The smell of old paper filled my lungs like every day of work. I walked in and glanced back to see him stalled in the doorframe. His gaze swept over the place until it settled on me in the middle. He looked uncertain.
"Y/N..." He thinks once twice before giving in. "There's no office in here." He tucked his hands, wrist-deep in his two pockets. His eyebrows pinched in worry and...sympathy. It makes my skin crawl. I'm blank. I'm an unfinished sentence.
"It's completely abandoned," he took a moment to look around again. And I hate. Dislike the way he's looking at me like I've lost my mind and told dogs can fly.
"I need a moment... am sorry." His head gave multiple shakes as he turned to the side and wandered away. A glimpse of his hand reaching over his face, and I am left standing there in my now imaginary office.
It was all fake. I slid down against the wall to just sit there and think about all the time I interacted with the so-called people here. It felt so real. Ghost detective department? A scoff left my lips as my fingers tried to carry the tears that now my eyes couldn't hold any longer.
I am crumbling apart with things I made up in my head. A headache blooms on each side of my temples. My body is rocking back and forth, and if Matthew came back again, he would make up his mind that I've lost it fully.
It feels so clammy on my layer of skin. I am covered in guilt for making him so worried over nothing. I want him back, holding me so I could break apart in his arms. Telling sorry on repeat until he's sick of it. I want him to say "it's fine. Everybody makes mistakes." But mine was careless. So idiotic.
Someone stood high above me and I sparked it was Matthew. My legs rose while my hands dragged away the tears it's been a bucket for. I tried to come up on why I was crying until I looked at him and saw someone I never thought I would see, at least not while I was still alive.
Cold eyes that carried no emotions in his depths locked onto mine. His face seemed to mock human reactions and feelings, as if it was frosty and shallow. Like his entire childhood was taken from him and he didn't even know what a ring pop was. His scent of cigar mixed with musk invaded my sense of smell, and it wasn't calming like Matthew's.
His out of the darkness he's been hiding. Haunting me in. I get a good look at him. Directly in front of me. Not moving an inch and I'm almost convinced to say it was my imagination playing tricks on me.
He reached to the side. His fingers dragged across the smooth surface of the wood. Dust particles, along with something else, settled on his two fingertips as he showed them to my view.
"Your imagination has been running on this." He rubbed them on his thumb and hummed.
And it gets me. Hits me. Punches me in my gut. Calling me stupid for not taking a day to clean the place. It was crushed pills, sprinkled everywhere in here. Now that I see how it looks, every corner I turn. It's there. It's in the air.
"Why...?" Words stuck together and managed to create a single one. My air pipe feels like it has been stuffed with cotton and I hope soon I forget to breathe and no longer will be able to.
"I love you." Was the only thing he said in a husky voice. He a step forward, right in front of me. Towering over me with his masculinity but I don't move. I don't move an inch from my place. I am finally unraveling the truth.
"So..so..much." Those words suddenly so raw with emotions that I thought didn't exist in him. Hot breath fresh on my skin. His fingers, carrying so much dust and something else, the reason for my mind as has been going off, run down my cheek in a soothing way. My gaze is intensely sucked onto his. He knows what he does to me.
"Cat got your tongue, my love?" A smile soon turned into a smirk, with a crook of his lips lifted on the side. I'm gasping and feeling like throwing up.
"This is a game to you...?" I didn't care if my voice cracked desperately, but he just gave a hum. Not a direct response of yes or no, and I wanted to grab his collar and force an answer out.
My vision is starting to blur, and I'm stumbling in my spot. I know I'm going to pass out. I know all the days of not having three meals are catching up to me today, right now. I suck in a breath and take his details again, probably to report to the police.
His jaw was so sharp it could cut diamonds, clenched. His grey eyes were stern. A few short hair strands of black fell on his forehead. His bushy brows narrowed. He looked like a work of art. Too unfortunate it was all wasted on someone like him.
With that, everything went dark.
