Everything

XXII

Spencer

When the phone picked up on the fourth ring, I let all my breath go at once.

I'd been trying to stop my heart from pounding frantically out of my chest for the last half-an-hour with no relief. Ultimately, I'd resolved to carefully climb out of bed and get myself a glass of water. That, too, solved nothing.

The harshly blinking alarm clock light taunted me, flashing its angry warning that it was five am.

I usually woke up at around six thirty. But it was a weekend and paper operations had gone down. I could entrust others with work – this was my day off. Time to relax.

But relaxation proved to be the last thing on my mind. My breathing was so constricted, I was like a fish gulping for air as I paced around the kitchen. This only got worse when I peeked a look at the beautiful woman who was currently artfully draped in my bedsheets and sound asleep.

There was no doubt.

Adriana Rodriguez was an angel sent from Heaven to enrapture me entirely. 

She was ethereal.

One of the first times I heard her speak my name, I remembered thinking about how it would sound if she was beneath me, looking into my eyes as she said it. Later, I'd chastised myself for getting hung up on such a little detail, something I knew would never happen anyway. But the musings of my 19-year-old brain were nothing compared to the real thing. The sound of Adriana alone moaning my name was enough to unravel me entirely.

"This better be good," the voice on the end of the phone groaned sleepily, "Saturday is the only day I get off in the entire week and I'm planning to cherish every second of it."

"Alright, Seb?" I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse. I'd downed about a litre of water since getting out of bed, but to no avail.

"Yeah. Decent. How's it going, brother?"

"Not good, Seb. Not good at all."

I'd called my brother in the hope that his voice was comforting but even a conversation couldn't distract my mind from the thoughts whirring around constantly inside my head.

What the hell was I going to do? How the hell was I going to cope?

"Hey," his tone changed, gruffer, "What the f*ck's wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me?" I posed back, gasping for breath, "I'm losing my goddamn mind, Sebastian. I can't sleep, I can't think, I can't eat, hell, I can't even breathe! I'm going f*cking crazy!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," my brother responded, a concerned tone entering his voice, "Slow down for a second. Take a deep breath."

"I can't!" I panicked, gripping my hair in anguish, "Seb, you've got to help me!"

"What the bloody hell do you mean - help you?"

"This is going to destroy me entirely and I know it. I'm in far too deep for it not to obliterate me."

"Bro, you're talking as if you're dying or something! Chill out for two seconds and explain what the hell you're freaking out about." I could sense Sebastian rolling his eyes, as if dealing with my shit was too much for him at 10am GMT, but it wasn't! It couldn't be! I was in turmoil!

"It's her."

"Adriana?" He questioned, "What's happened? Is she okay?"

"Of course, she's okay, she's more than okay," I sighed, "She's perfect. But that's the problem."