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Warning! mature scenes and mentions of suicide.
Day Four.
"So you plan on staying in there forever?" Jack cocked his brow, his arms crossed as he leaned against the bathroom doorway.
"Yep." Ana answered shortly, her own arms crossed together as she sulked in the bathtub. "Until the end of time."
It was almost eleven thirty that same night. Michael had been gone for several hours, and Ana had remained hiding out in the bathroom for the entirety of the time. Jack made her keep the door open so he could keep an eye on her, which she had surprisingly not complained at. But by the looks of her, she was exhausted.
The hard smack across the face Michael had given her didn't bother or upset her, however his words had hurt her. She knew the whole thing had been blown way out of proportion, but that's just the way that they were. She wasn't worried to death about him being gone, because she knew he could take care of himself. Besides, she knew he'd be coming back soon to resolve what had happened. He'd be feeling guilty no doubt, right along with her.
She felt like the scum of the Earth for what she had threatened him with, and it made her feel dirty. Of all things to say. She supposed she was no better. He had pried on her insecurities, and she had thrown his very worst fear at him. So as much as she wanted to hate him for his words, she was as much to blame as he was.
But still, just because she could recognize her fault didn't make her feel better. This was just a continuous cycle that sucked her very soul out from her. She wouldn't kill herself, she had made that promise to Michael. However, she just didn't know how she was going to do it. Michael wouldn't just up and abandon her, she knew that. But she wasn't going to take it with him being gone, even if it was only hours at a time. Her heart wouldn't survive it. Right now, she was exhausted and her body wouldn't let her panic over him. But she knew she wouldn't be able to do it. She wouldn't be able to live with him gone everyday. Her anxiety would kill her, crack her heart in two like a sledgehammer.
She would try just like she promised, but it seemed pointless.
"Aren't you uncomfortable?" Jack rolled his eyes, perching himself up on the sink.
"No." She bit back, her face pressed up against the shower wall. "I'm fine. Get out."
God, he was going to have to start getting payed for this shit. He huffed as he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and bringing it to his lips. "Hungry?"
She huffed as she turned to look at him, her neck cracking from her achy muscles. "Can't you just go away and be quiet?" She snapped. "Do you really have to stay in here and try to make me miserable?"
He smirked, blowing smoke in the opposite direction of her face. "Well, my dear, Anastasia, that's why I'm here." He straightened. "To make you miserable."
