𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑⁰¹ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ✓

⁰⁸innuendo

clementine

As I'd expected, the minute Helene found out I'd stayed the night in the studio, she sent me packing back to my flat, demanding that I take my much-needed rest.

I couldn't say anything about it. She could tolerate if one of her painters did an all-nighter once in a while, but never twice in a row.

Of course, I would never tell her I'd done four nights in a row multiple times. I had a trick of going out around six to get something to eat, which would be right before she'd come in. I'd come back at seven and all she'd think is that I'd gone home for the night and come back with some rest.

No. I am not some sane person who would just get a restraining order from her ex. I hated anything that would make things more complicated, and that often included confrontation.

When I arrived home, I was glad Aiden wasn't sitting and waiting by the front door, he did that twice and those were two horrible arguments I didn't want to have at so early in the morning.

I unlock the door and kick my shoes off, shoving them in the shoe shelf by the door. I hear them fall against each other and I cringe at the sound.

After hanging my coat at the back of the door, I make my way into the flat, my shoulder tiredly carrying my bag that suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand tonnes.

I collapse into the couch and breath out a long sigh. Now that I'm lying down, I realise how sore my body is. My back is aching and my shoulders feel so knotted up. At the moment, all I want to do is drift into a twenty-four-hour sleep.

"Long night?" I hear the familiar voice of my roommate, Amara, come and I jerk myself awake. "Or should I say 'nights'?"

I sit up on the couch and turn around, squinting at the sight of her pouring coffee into a mug. "Ah, you've awaken," I hum, standing up and dragging myself to the kitchen. "Love that," I walk around her and open the fridge, gaping in like a deer.

I feel her eyes on me but I d dare turn around.

"Clem," She says and I hear the hint of seriousness in her tone. "You can't keep doing all-nighters at the studio, it's not healthy,"

I shake my head and close the fridge, opening the freezer and continuing to gape at what was inside. "Mhm, and who are you to say?"

She scoffs. "I'm a nurse, Clem. I can say things like that,"

I close the freezer and turn around, finally facing her with my sunken eyes. "Right. Forgot." I look down at my feet and begin twiddling with my toes. "And, dude, I'm just committed to my work,"

I could practically hear her rolling her eyes, paired with that exasperated sigh she does whenever she's tired of someone's bullshit. "No, you're just committed to avoiding Aiden. You're just avoiding him in whatever way you can when really, you should be setting it straight with him with a restraining order."

I stubbornly shake my head and turn to the counter, taking a mug from the drawer and the creamer from one of the cupboards. "I'm not doing that. That shit's messy and probably costs something. And isn't that, like, overly dramatic?" I pour some coffee into my mug and the right amount of creamer, but she takes it from me and I gasp. "Hey, give that back,"

She holds up her hand at me and shakes her head. "No. Not until you tell me how you're going to deal with Aiden. He's bothering both you and I and something needs to be done."

I've known Amara since I was a freshman at NYU and she was a junior. After graduating, she got a place and needed help with the rent, inviting me to live with her as I did have my own income from Ackerman's Arts. Since then, we've been through most things together and I couldn't imagine not knowing her.