Nathan Prescott x Reader

TWENTY SEVEN

You didn't get any sleep last night so when Warren's up, you're up.
"I'll be back..I still have class. You okay? Being alone I mean.." Warren asks

"Yeah.."

"Just..stay here. You can lay in my bed and use my laptop to watch movies and stuff. I'll bring you something to eat after class." he notices you're withdrawn but he's trying to find things to help in any way he can

"No. I'm not hungry."

"I'm sure when I leave class you will be."

"I won't.."

"You will.You have to eat (Y/N). you're scaring me." he looks at you and sighs before leaving.

You stand up and slip on your shoes, keeping Warren's pajamas on. You go out into the hall, going down to Nathan's room. The police haven't come to investigate yet so there's nothing stopping you..you turn the knob. It's unlocked surprisingly. You want to cry again but you manage to keep your calm,breathing calmly. You look around and quickly find a notebook, you open it to find sketchy and messy writing. It's like..Nathan's journal or something.

Entry 1
My therapist says I should write my feelings and shit down, the things I can't tell her. I only see her once every twenty fucking years so I hope this helps something.
You turn to the next page
Entry 2
This girl I met named (Y/N).. There's something weird about her she is different. A lot of people around here are fake..and use people but she's real. She obviously doesn't care about my money or popularity unlike some other people, she treats me like a person..she's real with me and harsh but also nice. It's weird. But..I like it. She's pretty okay.
You slightly smile to yourself, Nathan's impression of you from the begging has always been..positive.
Entry 3
I lied to her. I lied to her about taking Kate to the hospital. I lied to Kate. Jefferson slipped something in her drink and I was supposed to swoop in and "help" some fucking help. I'm sorry Kate. I'm so sorry, I didn't want to hurt you.
You frown and turn the page
Entry 4
I accidentally called Mr Jefferson "dad" and he looked at me, full of something that seemed like pride...even after my past fuckups. I can't tell anymore if he actually cares or if he just cares about being able to do his "business" in the dark room with the equipment my family is paying for but. I think he cares or either he's a really good actor...
you frown knowing the answer,knowing that he's the reason that--you flip to the next page not wanting to think about it, it's full of scribbles. It's a bit unsettling.