Hi guys.
This is something else I've been working on, it means a lot to me because... it just does. You'll find out later. The emotion I felt whilst constructing this is very raw and real and I just wish I had someone to take care of me, because I had to win this war by myself, and it's still not over.
Anyway, enough of my sob story.
It's kind of different for me, these chapters are all very short and a lot of them I don't like but hopefully you guys will. As usual, please leave me a little review or something, so I'll know whether to continue it or not.
Many thanks
ONE
It was okay at first.
Like, how you stick your hand underneath the hot water tap, and it takes a little while for the burn to reach your nerves.
After that, I just felt empty.
I hang my head back and blow out all the hot smoke from my lungs, my half-finished cigarette dangling from my fingers. I am sprawled across his expensive leather chair, my legs hanging off one armrest and my upper body spread right across the other. It is stuffy in his extravagantly decorated office; the air is thick with my smoke.
"What are you doing?"
I lazily turn my head to the door. "Smoking," I answer flatly, placing the cigarette between my lips again and sucking in another lungful. "You're the genius kid, aren't you? What's it look like I'm doing?"
Seto's lips press into a firm line and he places his briefcase on the table, pulling an expensive laptop out of it. "Get up," he says, looking down at me with his frosty blue eyes. He tilts his head to the side, gesturing for me to get out of his Italian chair but I am lacking the energy today.
"Make me," is my lethargic response, releasing another exhalation of smoke.
And when he lifts me swiftly over his shoulder, I let him. He drops me down onto the couch and takes one look at me, my eyes half-lidded and my crumpled clothes. A dark frown crosses his lips but he just leaves me there, slumped over the sleek, black Italian leather of his sofa. I sigh heavily, more hot smoke escaping from between my chapped lips. When my cigarette is finished, I flick it onto the floor.
His eyes rise from his computer screen but he doesn't say anything.
I close my eyes and he lets me fall asleep on his couch; rest my tired skeleton until it is time for him to take me home.