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⤟𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿⤠ ⸻
DIEGO KNOCKED ON THE DOOR, NOT SURE IF she's awake or not, even so it's nearly four pm so he didn't care if he woke her up.
Nellie groaned when the door clicked open, her starry eyes fluttering open — not with ease, she had to fight to open them — and meeting Diego's brown ones.
"morning." he spoke, though his words book through her ears. like a bomb just went off.
she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to sit up and hold her head while the man places a cold glass of water and some pills on the nightstand next to her.
"yeah, probably hurts. first ever hangovers usually do."
she groaned, "why do people get so hooked on this? what're they, masochists?"
the man shrugged, chuckling as he tried to keep his voice down. he sat at the edge of the bed next to her feet, before she pulled them up and under her chin. he looked her over, nudging his head to the water after she looked at him.
he couldn't stop looking at her while she took the pills, it's a miracle she's here. when he first found out she was missing he blamed himself for years, going on to the police force to try and stop anything like this happening to anyone ever again.
first year on the job he slowly convinced his chief to let him investigate her case, and he did. his chief didn't think anything of it, as there was nothing to go off of, her case wasn't even a full page. they barely had any evidence on what happened.
hence why, Diego found nothing. he tried and tried, but it's been years and her rooms been ransacked for answers. the crime scene long tampered with.
she was gone in a blink of an eye. like she was a mere memory.
yet here she was. alive, breathing, moving. his only question, his main question; how?
"thanks." she said, her voice raspy from her sleep. her words vibrated back into her skull every time, but the pills should kick in soon.
in the back of both of their minds: they questioned why she would trust him. trust that he didn't give her the wrong pills. on his side, she doesn't know him. she shouldn't be able to remember him.
