Faith {A Daveed Diggs x Reader}

•chapter twenty•

The bed was familiar but not because it was yours. The sheets were pristine silk and had a faint scent of crisp cologne. Your eyes fluttered open and you rubbed them in an attempt to clear your vision. No sooner than you realized where you were, your stomach twisted and you turned the comforter over before rushing to the master bathroom.

You were at Daveed's house with no recollection of how you got there. You cleaned yourself up and took a hard look at yourself in the mirror.

The reflection that stared back at you wasn't necessarily pretty. You looked like the human personification of a hangover with your tangled hair and deep bags underneath your eyes. You were surprised to see yourself in your underwear and your heartrate accelerated when your brain connected your reflection back to that one cursed night six months ago. You shook the flashback away but it still lingered and became more present every time you ignored it.

You opened the dresser you once claimed and were pleasantly surprised to see your old sweats and baggy sweatshirts neatly folded in their respected drawers. You slipped into a pair of sweats and pulled a sweatshirt over your head before following the sweet scent of bacon down the stairs.

Daveed was completely immersed in whatever work he was doing on his laptop when you reached the kitchen. He adjusted the headphones on his ears and hummed a melody which meant he was working on music or listening to music as he worked. He was most definitely working, though. He was always working.

You noticed the fresh breakfast buffet on the counter and silently made yourself a plate. He always went overboard with breakfast.

"You're up."

You jumped at the sudden sound of his voice and glanced back at him. He looked so happy.

You poured a glass of orange juice. "Yeah."

"I knew you'd be hungry so I made breakfast."

"Looks great. Thank you."

You passed Daveed at the breakfast bar to get to the couch and peeked at his laptop. He was working on music.

"You just dropped an album, Diggs. You should lay off the producing for a while," you advised, sitting on the couch.

"It's not for me."

"Then who's it for?"

He paused the music and let his headphones fall to his neck. "Eden."

You suddenly felt the urge to vomit again. "Oh." You sipped your orange juice to calm the uneasiness in your stomach.

"Can we talk?" Daveed asked, setting his equipment aside and turning his chair to face you.

"I think that'd be a great idea." The hostility in your voice was hard to conceal. "We have a lot of things to talk about."

"I know."

"Why'd you cheat on me?"

"Hold on-"

"Answer me," you interjected. "Why'd you cheat on me?"

Daveed exhaled and met you on the couch while you waited for an answer. Just as your impatience reached its peak, he replied.

"It was a PR stunt," he said. "It wasn't real. I never kissed her, slept with her, or even looked at her the way I look at you. Never in a million years."

"PR stunt?" you stammered.

"Eden's people knew about my relationship with her in high school and also knew about my relationship with you now. They chose you to choreograph her project to get to me and made this mess bigger. It was a setup."