Aviana (MC Riders #1)

L A C U N A

/ləˈkjuːnə/

noun

a blank space, a missing part.

~🎲~

G U N N E R  J O L T E D  awake, instinctively gasping for air as he tried to push his trembling body upright. Each breath was harder than the last and came back out in short, shaky bursts. With a desperate growl, he finally pulled himself up to rest against the headboard, his eyes closing in relief as the burning in his lungs began to alleviate. However, it did nothing for the pain in his heart.

Frustrated at his lack of control over his mind, he threw his legs over the side of his bed, dragging a hand down his face before releasing a yawn. He knew there was little to no chance of him falling back to sleep; once the nightmares began, they didn't stop and Gunner didn't have it in him to relive any more memories. The alarm clock on his bedside table read 4:25 am in bold, red print; he had had all of four hours of sleep.

Gunner decided to head downstairs for water - or maybe some kind of hard liquor. He didn't know yet. Either way, he was intent on finding a distraction to chase away the dream that still lingered in his head. To make him forget everything he had done wrong that day and all the days after it.

He tried to keep his footsteps light as he quickly travelled down the hall; he didn't want to wake someone and have to explain what was going on. It was bad enough with Casanova breathing down his neck every day to 'check-in' on him. He didn't need people to check-in on him, he needed people to leave him alone.

As Gunner continued down the hall, his gaze seemed to automatically fall on Aviana's door. He hated that her room was so close to his own; it made her seem all the more obtainable when in reality, she was the furthest thing from it.

He resisted the urge to stop and check on her. She wasn't fond of people entering into her room unannounced, that much had been easy to figure out. However, the rest of her was still a mystery to him. She had barely spoken a full sentence to him and therefore he had never been given the chance to see who she really was under the terror and timidness that seemed to cloak her like a second skin.

He had no one else to blame but himself for that. He saw her every day; the way she acted towards others with confidence that grew with every passing day. He had particularly taken note of how close she had gotten to Casanova. He would like to say that he was concerned about the fact purely because Casanova was a womanizer and he didn't want to see someone like her get hurt, but he knew his feelings ran far deeper than that. Her attitude towards Casanova may concern him, but Casanova's attitude towards her was what really had him fighting down the urge to start a brawl.

He knew Casanova had a good heart and he had always told him that the right girl would come along eventually and put him in his place, but he didn't think he could take it if that girl turned out to be Aviana. He may have hated the thought of her being dragged into his life, but he hated the thought of her with someone else far more. No matter how many times he told himself to let her go, something inside of him refused to do so,

It wasn't that he was in love or obsessed with the girl, but what he was feeling was definitely beyond what was deemed a 'schoolboy crush' or a mere 'like'. He could have pinned it down to lust if it wasn't for the fact that he was more concerned about what was going into her body than her body itself. She was so frail he felt as if she might snap if she simply stepped down too hard. So, perhaps it was an infatuation then? The kinder, more appropriate brother of obsession seemed to fit the bill rather nicely, so that is what he would call it.