sinfully in love | blueface | completed

realities...

Meechie pov

My leg bounced as I watched the lady at the front desk examine my I.D. before reaching for the phone to call Ava's room.

"Hi Mrs. White." She greeted when she answered, "I'm sorry to bother you so late but there's a Demetrius White in the front office. He's asking for a room key?"

Ava must've said yeah since the lady nodded and began making me a key.

"Thank you." I said when she finally handed it to me.

"Ummhum."

Ian know what the fuck her problem was and she was lucky Ian have time to find out.

"If anyone reports sounds of yelling, I'm calling the police." She asserted with squinted eyes and a finger pointed at me.

So she thought I beat women.

What's a good way to say you kill 'em but not beat 'em?

I ignored her statement and walked towards the room on the card, happy to have found this crazy ass girl.

When I made it, I pressed the card against the reader and pushed open the door.

I was expecting to see her awake since she just got off the phone with the lady but she was asleep, Aria resting on her chest.

Walking closer to the bed, I saw she didn't even hang up the phone, just left it dangling off the hook.

"Ava." I called in a whisper, trying not to wake Aria up.

She didn't move, so I shook her, lightly.

Nothing.

"I know this damn girl ain't that tired." I mumbled while tapping her again.

When I pulled her eyelid back and she still didn't move, I knew something was wrong.

"Always some fucking shit." I ranted while using the phone to dial 911, "Ion even fuck with these people and you be having me call them at least once a month."

_______

Ava pov

4 months later

"The dreams have completely stopped then?" Natalia, my new therapist, asked with a hint of excitement in her voice.

I held Demetrius' hand in mine, playing with his wedding band, "It's been a month since the last one."

My dreams had slowly but surely returned to normal.

The gradual increase in sleeping and decrease in nightmares had been so welcoming, especially after that terrible nightmare about Zeke killing me.

After I got off the phone with the clerk, I fainted from exhaustion. Days of not sleeping finally catching up to me.

That hallucination was so vivid, so real, that I still find myself thinking about it sometimes.

She nodded, "I love all of the progress Ava. I still want you to continue taking the anti-depressants, but I'm going to lower the dose and see how that affects you."

Slight panic crept in, "Why?" I questioned, "I don't think we should bother it if it's working."

My life was going so well and I didn't want to do anything to fuck it up. I never wanted to feel like  I did before, lost in anger and sadness, controlled by impulsiveness.

Natalia diagnosed me with Intermittent explosive disorder, which is characterized by extreme bouts of anger or aggression due to the simplest matters that shouldn't evoke the reactions that I would respond with.