he shouldn’t be too much of a dickhead about it.
Atlas has taken to calling North as many derogatory and rude names as he can in our messages and phone calls now that he knows we’re being monitored. I’m a little shocked that he called him over something as small as me missing a call but he always has treated me like I’m something precious.
I still feel horrendously guilty over it.
And then there’s North’s message.
If you are too injured to attend study or classes, I will send another healer to you. There are no excuses for failing your classes.
I reply to Sage and Atlas straight away and leave North on read because he can choke on a dick for all I care, then I make the slow and painful trip to the bathroom to pee and scrub the horrors of the day away from my skin. Felix did an amazing job of putting me back together but there’s a leftover ache in my bones and muscles that make breathing freaking excruciating. Not that I’m complaining, because this is a million times better than healing without the help but, man, do I want to die the second the water hits me like a thousand burning needles into my raw skin.
Showers are usually my safe space, the one enjoyable experience of my day, and having that torn away from me has me cursing Vivian out again. Just because I like the old asshole, doesn’t mean I can’t also hate him at the same time for this bullshit. When I manage to crawl back to my room, I immediately pass out and sleep the day away.
I wake up in the afternoon, disorientated and ravenous.
I pull clothes on, whatever is comfortable, and walk down to the campus dining hall by myself to eat an early dinner. I’m expecting to catch shit from someone for looking homeless in my sweatpants and hoodie pulled up over my head, but either no one recognizes me, or they’re all too hungover from a great Friday night to notice me here.
I eat enough food to fill a football team up.
Being healed by a Gifted always makes you hungry but, fuck me, three plates down and I’m still thinking about grabbing another breadstick and dipping it in the spaghetti sauce, sprinkling some cheese on it… God, by the time I talk myself out of a fifth plate I think my stomach is in real danger of splitting open.
What a way to die.
My walk back to the dorms is slower now that I’m carrying an extra twenty pounds of undigested carbs and sauces, and there’s a package waiting for me at the desk when I get back to the building.
Flowers from Atlas with a teddy, a card that apologizes for being cheesy even though I’m crying over his thoughtfulness, and a box full of candies and chocolates. It’s honestly the nicest thing a guy has ever done for me and I have no idea of how to thank him without feeling like I’m leading him on.
The guilt climbs back up my spine and I have to push it away again because… well, I’ve been honest with him, as honest as I can be. I’ve told him I don’t want to stay. I’ve told him I can’t be with any of them. Is that enough for me to accept these gifts without feeling like I’m the worst type of bitch?
I’m too freakin inept at dealing with bonds and the emotional baggage that comes with them to navigate this without causing damage.
I get back to my room and binge on the candies like I haven’t just eaten a huge meal at the dining hall, all of my emotions opening up a black hole inside of me that I need the sugar to fill. I send a fumbling thank you to Atlas and then turn my phone off because I’m a coward right now and can’t think of how to talk to him.
I’m seriously considering messaging Sage to whine about the bullshit that is my life, when there’s a knock at my door.
Who the hell is it now?
Because Sage would message first and no one else that I hang out with would show up here without her. When I step up to the door my Bond gives a little tug in my chest, my hand pausing halfway to the door handle because there’s no way I want to face North or Gabe right now.
I’m too sore to verbally spar with either of them, and I