NOTHING COULD BREAK A BROKEN GIRL. BUT HE DID.
•°•
"Don't leave me." I repeat quietly, my voice basically dead of life and audibility.
And with that, my mind lacks of consciousness and I allow the darkness consume me.
But not before hearing a faint...
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•°•
AFTER THE FASTEST SHOWER I've ever had in my life, I quickly brush my teeth again, before stepping out of the bathroom. I start cleaning my body like I'm being monitored by a militant on a deadline— although I'm really on a deadline.
I barely dry my hair with my towel, leaving it damp and sticking to my skin. Normally, I would find it irritating, but I'm currently distracted by my level of agility and hurrying abilities.
I don't want to give Cillian and Kate the slightest idea that I'm a tardy person or someone who doesn't take them seriously.
I pay no attention to my injuries and wounds, not finding them to be painful anymore. The stitches has helped the injury on my forehead and it'll soon leave a scar behind, just like many parts of my body. It doesn't matter anyway, I'm already used to them.
Just as long as no one sees them.
For some reason, I forgot to pack some clothes I have and only remembered when I was exhibiting the superpower of Flash in the shower.
I truly feel bad for keeping Kate and Cillian here for this long because of me. I know they have better and more important things to do, but they've put everything else on hold just to help me.
How will I ever repay them?
Choosing not to think about that in these short minutes I have to put myself together, I apply deodorant onto my body and underarm.
God this feels good!
I already feel a million times better and refreshed than I did since yesterday.
I can't believe I didn't take my bath for almost twenty-four hours. For someone who can not handle dirt, germs and even sweat staying long on my body, these past hours has definitely been the longest I've stayed without bathing.
On normal days, I usually shower twice in the day and sometimes thrice, before showering in the night again. I don't know if it's a me thing, but I truly cannot handle stink, odor or anything related to the bad hygiene family.
Especially from my own self.
I need to be clean and ordered to think properly or even think sometimes. It's just the way I've always been.
I pull out a drawer from my hundred years old looking wardrobe and pick out an underwear. I put it on and pick out a black sports bra.
Never in a million years will I choose a normal bra over half-cut bras or sport bras, especially when my boobs barely need them.
