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DAEMON
“Bro, unlock the fucking door,” Alex booms, but I don’t move from my position on the sofa where I fell after reluctantly showering her scent off me.
The memories in my head are bad enough. But being able to smell her, too?
Fucking torture.
“Go away,” I call back, not even bothering to move my arm from covering my eyes.
It’s still light out. Despite the fact that I’ve closed my curtains to allow me to drown in my own dark regrets and misery, I know the sun is going to be sneaking in through the cracks the second I open my eyes. And if I let him in, it’ll only make it worse.
Alex has always been the light to my dark. The humour to my misery.
I don’t fucking need that right now.
I just need the rest of the bottle of vodka sitting on my coffee table and the sleeping pills that are in my bathroom. Only then will the pain ripping through my chest lessen.
“DAEMON,” Alex barks. “I’m not fucking about. Open this door or I’ll fucking smash it in.”
I don’t react. Why would I? There is no fucking chance of him smashing it down. It’s locked up tighter than a duck’s arsehole with the deadbolts on.
The only way to get inside is to override the security system.
“Shit,” I hiss, knowing full well that Alex would stoop that low in order to get to me if he had to. “What do you want?” I shout back.
“To see you. Is that too much to fucking ask?”
Yes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Just…” Fuck off and let me drown alone.
“Nah, man. It’s not happening. We need to talk after everything that happened with—”
“Don’t,” I bark. “Don’t fucking say it.”
“Yeah, see? You fucking need to let me in.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter quietly to myself as I swing my legs from the sofa.
“I swear to God, Daemon. I’ll— finally,” he hisses when I disengage the first lock.
“What?” I bark the second I pull the door open and just glare at him through the two-inch crack.
“Jesus. You look like shit,” he says, his brows pinching in concern.
“Great. You’ve seen me. Can you fuck off now?”
He glares at me, silently informing me that there is exactly zero chance of that happening.
“Dude, what the fuck happened? You were so… happy.”
At that enlightening comment, I release the door and storm back to the living room for my vodka.
Inviting himself in, as expected, his footsteps grow closer as his concerned stare burns into my back.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I brought her home as requested. Life may now continue as normal,” I state, the bitterness in my tone making me wince.
