───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────5:32 A.M.
I woke up feeling more tired than when I fell asleep which was a usual occurrence for me. I was definitely not a morning person. Waking up is a transition from the world of dreams into the day, and for some that can be good. For me, at least in my dreams I was happy..
My eyes were swollen and tight, my nose was congested and I realized I had cried myself to sleep. At some point in the night I had moved from the floor as I was curled up in my bed, buried deep in the many blankets and pillows. My body felt so heavy as I untangled myself from my sheets, my throat dry and sore from choking back my sobs. God, was I being that dramatic?
It's not like it was news to me that Damon didn't have feelings for me. Sliding to the edge of my bed, I leaned forward putting my head in my hands, massaging my temples. Jagged slivers of pain shot up from my ribs to my skull, I had barely eaten yesterday and I definitely had no appetite now. My stomach grumbled as if to mock me and I rolled my eyes.
I slowly stood up and stretched out my stiff limbs. I walked over to my full body length mirror that was encased inside a tall wardrobe in the corner of my room and took a look at myself.
My hair was a mess; the tangles of dark chestnut brown curls tumbled past my shoulders to just below my rib cage. It was frizzy and all over the place.
The whites of my eyes were stained pink around the edges. My cheeks were flushed and stood out against my pale skin. Some makeup was smeared, the mascara and eyeliner had left black streaks down my cheeks.
I looked terrible.I grabbed some makeup wipes from my desk and I gently wiped off the stains of yesterday. In an effort to tame the beast that was my hair, I raked my fingers through it, hissing as they caught a few knots and pulled. Tying it back in a ponytail, I sighed.
My throat felt dry and scratchy, as if there were nails digging into it every time I tried to swallow. I needed water.
I wasn't even sure if Damon had left last night or if he was asleep in his bedroom. For once, I was hoping he wasn't home. I gingerly walked towards my bedroom door and quietly opened it, cringing as it creaked. Stupid noisy hinges..
Tip-toeing my way into the hall, I saw that Damon's door was closed and no lights were showing through the cracks. Phew.. He's not home.
The last thing I needed was him asking questions.
Letting out a deep breath, I stepped down the stairs and headed into our small blue kitchen. I felt the muscles in my body relax a bit knowing I was alone and it was rare that I was able to walk around in just a baggy band tee and my underwear.
Reaching up into one of the wooden cabinets, I grabbed a tall glass and poured myself some water. The first sip of the cold liquid coated my throat, soothing it immediately. I sighed in relief.
I continued to take small sips of the water and stretched out my neck, shoulders and my back. The crackling of my bones felt good as I felt each one pop and settle comfortably back into place.
"Bells?" A deep groggy voice came from behind me. Startled, I jumped, causing me to drop the glass of water that I held in my hand.
YOU ARE READING
Why Can't It Be Me?
Romance"Constantly, consistently, continually, you." - perry poetry You have to be careful with secrets. Sometimes you think things are best kept unsaid, until it feels so heavy that it won't let you sleep at night. For Bella Stone, her secret wasn't that...