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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HER HANDS SHOOK as they gripped the steering wheel of the Impala, the car that now seemed to be less of hers than it is Finn's. Y/N drove with tunnel vision, refusing to let her mind wander anywhere else than the road ahead of her, making her way back to her apartment complex in the dusk light.
Time blurred as she parked the Impala, her shoes clicking below her as she hurriedly went up to her apartment with shaky hands and rapid breaths. She opened her door to the apartment, closing it behind her to lock it frantically before letting out an immediate breath she didn't know she was holding.
She leaned her back against the door, her head meeting the wood as she allowed herself to breathe again.
Her eyes clenched shut as she tried to process everything they just happened, but every time her eyes closed, all she could see was the perfectly freckled and soft-eyed gaze of the man she fell in love with.
His smile, his dimple that formed when he laughed at a joke she said, the way the sun kissed his cheeks when they sat at their mountainside spot. His curly hair, the infinite universe of freckles on his cheeks, his softly parted lips.
And now, he looked all the same. But older, more mature, and looked as if he'd gone through some shit and seen things he'd rather not see.
He looked the same, he looked great, he looked like her Finn.
Y/N's eyes shot open, now staring up at the ceiling as she refused to allow her mind to go there. She couldn't handle this.
She lifted off the door, and walked through her dimly lit apartment, tossing her keys and bag on the kitchen table before making her way to the living room where a blue hue appeared meaning the TV was on. She walked into the living room to see Jack sitting on the couch, who looked to be like he was waiting for you to return home, but dozed off.
His arms were crossed as he sat with his eyes closed in his sleeping form, his hands resting on his upper arms as they crossed.
Hands. Hands that at one point when they were kids, touched Y/N against her will.
Y/N felt this sudden wave of repulsion, making her avert her gaze from her fiancé. Her skin crawled with shutters of discomfort as she remembered that day.
