[Various x F! Reader]
You've made it this far, aren't you glad? Aren't you happy with your choices? You did the right thing, correct?
Then how come you can't even stand to look at yourself, hm?
FINAL BOOK TO "REFUGE" - READ FIRST TWO BOOKS TO UNDERS...
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𝗠𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗿. 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗚𝗨𝗬 - $𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗯𝗼𝘆$
↢ ❦ ↣
August 9th, 2008. That's what the date is, just a little bit over a week since the incident with Mikey. You don't remember a single thing that's happened during the passing time, all of it just felt like a blur but somehow you knew none of it was good.
Day after day you'd have to face Mikey, suffer in his silence unless he opened his mouth to remind you of your stupidity. You honestly don't know what it was he was calling you stupid for, because you've been making more than a couple of mistakes. You felt suffocated in your excuse of a home, so for some hours of the day you'd find yourself with the one and only Sasha.
He didn't need any explanation as to why you wanted to lounge around his apartment, he didn't question your distant behavior he thought you were making progress on, and he certainly knew not to push you to talk about how things were going with the gang. Was he curious and worried about the fact you needed a couple stitches on your head? yeah. Did he question it? No.
All you've been is quiet, barely even acknowledging him despite his attempts at starting a conversation. You were always too deep in thought about Mikey, the gang, Seishu. Gosh, Seishu. Of course you hadn't broken things off, but you've been distant with everyone including him. You don't answer anyone's calls or messages unless it was Mikey. And you feel really fucking bad, you do want to reach out to Inupi, to feel his arms wrapped around you because lately all that's been engulfing you was a god damn couch.
Everything sounds faded, at a distance as if you were stranded in the middle of the ocean. There was a burn striking up your nostrils, pupils dilated which you don't even notice because your eyes blur your entire vision. You feel as if your heart was in your head, the pounding matching the beating which had your chest tightening. You can't even swallow because your mouth and throat were so dry, any water or saliva drying quickly on your tongue as if it was the desert.
You don't think you've ever hated yourself more than you do now. The way you look, think, act – literally everything associated with you. You can't even recognize yourself anymore, but you don't care enough to do anything about it.
"Hey,"
Sasha's voice echoed in your ears, making you blink from his sudden break in silence. With a few more blinks your vision clears, taking you back to the bathroom where you stare at yourself in the mirror, sitting on a stool. A headache forms from the lights, making you wonder if it was brighter than the sun.
Some movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention, taking a glance at the bathroom counter where Sasha wipes something off before rubbing his nose with a sigh. You look away before you meet his eye, holding your hands in your lap.
"Did you still want me to do it?" He sounded so far, making you shut your eyes as your brows knit in frustration. But you can feel how he tugs at a strand of your hair, examining the piece with concentration yet disappointment.
