SEQUEL to INFATUATED
"Life used to be so simple without you around, but now it's like we're kids all over again!"
After escaping the drunken and vengeful wrath of her father, and frantically mourning the assumed death of Finn, Y/N decides to carry...
N O T I C E: This book includes detailed themes surrounding sex, adultery, violence, suicide, abuse, sexual harassment, alcohol, drugs, blood, death, anxiety, ptsd and other very sensitive topics — are all graphically depicted in this story.
Proceed with notice. Viewer discretion advised. (nothing new, you know the drill)
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Y/N L/N'sFIRST DAY as a certified Therapeutic Psychologist had started out completely normal. It was like any other day.
Y/N had woken up to an annoying alarm and an empty bed. She brushed her teeth, she did her hair. She took her daily pills that were prescribed to her by her therapist over the years to help with her anxiety and PTSD.
She had opened her closet that she shared with Jack, and shuffled through her clothes hastily in a rush. Usually, she was careful not to look at the far corner of her side of the closet, where she had hidden and hung some of Finn's old hoodies. Usually, they were hanging far enough away and blended in with her own clothes, but today was different. Today, Y/N was in a rush, and that's when she heard a sound of thick fabric slump off the hanger and to the floor.
And when she noticed it, the sight slightly disturbed her. Maybe it was a sign of the kind of day she would have. Maybe it was a sign of who she would see.
What she had seen fallen to the floor, was one of Finn's hoodies.
She stared at it with saddened eyes, freezing in place as everything in her busy mind and morning seemed to silent.
She hadn't touched or worn one of Finn's hoodies since she got to Santa Anna eight years ago. She was always so careful not to disturb them, why wasn't she today?
She couldn't bring herself to touch them. She hadn't for the past eight years, and she didn't want to start the day off a depressed mess.
So, she instead hastily picked out a jumpsuit for her first day, and quickly shut the closet door.
She then had gone to apply a small bit of makeup, walking over to her jewelry box, lifting up her stud earrings to her ears, and putting on a dainty necklace that was actually her mother's. Something she had been able to scrap after the incident all those years ago.
And finally, she looked to reach and pick up her favorite bracelet. It was more of a leather strap, but a bracelet. She tied it on her wrist with ease, admiring its rough texture and provided a sense of comfort to her.
She ran a finger over the thick leather band, the grooves and jagged divots from the scratch marks of previous usage made it all the more uniquely special to her.
