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Logically.
By waking up at five the next day and resuming the cycle.
That’s why I nearly lost it after that godforsaken initiation I shouldn’t have set foot into.
That event was a major deviation from my usual habits, and it took me more than just waking up at five to get over it.
But I did. Eventually. Because I’m incontrol.
The whole ludicrous experience is in the past.
Or that’s what I thought.
Another unexpected event just slammed into my steel wall, putting a dent in it and sweeping my perfect cycle into a ditch.
My feet come to a halt as I peer back at the waste of space of a human whom I’ve been trying to bleach out of my mind.
And I did.
Isucceeded.
Until he spoke just now, that is.
My lungs heave in quick succession, chest rippling against my shirt as if hoping to escape from my own fucking skin.
Alternative rock keeps playing from my sole earbud, the loud beat pounding in my ear, but I can’t hear anything over the constant static thumping in my skull.
Like whenever my carefully built life experiences a hurdle.
Nikolai isn’t only a hurdle. He’s a fucking wall that I can’t seem to shove out of the way.
He doesn’t notice the clusterfuck he’s brought on with his mere presence and stands there grinning like an idiot.
Half naked.
Only a necklace with a bullet dangles on his chest.
His white shorts hang so low on his hips, one wrong move would bring them down.
A map of extravagant tattoos spread over his chest, shoulders, arms, and all eight of his abs. He’s stupidly muscular in a very unnecessary way. His thick mane of hair is tied in a messy ponytail which highlights his sharp jaw, harsh features, and unhinged eyes.
I thought the bloodied mask made him seem monstrous the other time, but no, he doesn’t need a crutch when he can pull off that intense and entirely unpleasant energy with his revolting face alone.
He strokes my AirPod between his fingers—definitely disinfecting that later. “Is it just me or are you looking at me like youreallymissed me?”
I barely manage to stop my upper lip from lifting in a snarl as I snatch my AirPod. “I don’t even know who you are. Run along, boy.”
There.
I threw his insult back at him. Not that I was thinking about that retort, or something similarly obnoxious, hours after the initiation.
I turn and start jogging again, hell-bent on finishing my run and going back to the schedule we all know and love. By we, I mean me and my unstable brain.
Once again, my plan plummets to the deepest pit of hell.
The damn twat catches up to me, jogging at my pace, his shoulder nearly touching mine. “It’s me, Nikolai. We met the other day at the initiation… Oh, right! I was wearing the yellow-stitch mask, so you didn’t see my face, but it’s me! Much hotter without the mask, don’t you think?”
I was intending to disinfect the AirPod before I used it again, but I don’t have the luxury. I push it in my ear and blast the volume to the max and run faster, the trees lining the road blurring in my peripheral vision.
