fuckboy

chapter xxi

Y/N's P.O.V.

I wish I could say I woke up calmly and at peace, with the sun shining down on my face and warming me up from the outside until it had spread all over me, forcing me to stretch myself awake until I could open my eyes and take a peek at the sleeping man next to me.

He wasn't on the bed anymore, and he was also the reason I was woken up.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized once he noticed my figure sitting up on the mattress in a startle. He'd been the cause for it - the heavy something he dropped on the floor interrupting the silence of the morning, and it took me a while to brush away the sleep in my eyes to realize it was a suitcase.

And that's when I really woke up.

I couldn't even say anything. Just stay there and watch as he went about the house, grabbing whatever he could find and dropping it on the open luggage and then repeat the process, over and over and over again.

My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I wanted to be wrong, but I knew exactly what was happening.

And the silence - the heavy silence in the room led him to start speaking.

"Travel restrictions have been lifted," he informed me, still not bothering lifting his eyes from his task to look at me. "I can be with my family now. Can't wait to see my mom." Wrapping the sheets around me tighter, I nodded, even though he obviously didn't care.

He was merely informing me, that much was clear.

"Uh... So I guess this it it." This time, when I looked up, I found him staring at me, the suitcase packed and ready to go by his foot and he didn't seem to know what to do.

I was numb.

"I'll text you?" Perhaps it would have hurt less if it was more of a promise than a question. In the way he spoke it, however, it was clear that the doubt that was rising inside of me had been placed by the man who was bubbling with it, drowning in his own hesitancy.

"Sure." It was the first word I said since the previous evening. "I'll leave the key under the mat." He opened his mouth and closed it again, nodded and then left. And I just stood there. Hugging my shoulders to my chest, looking at the now inhabited bedroom and asking myself how the fuck did I get into this mess.

I must have cried because by the time I decided to get out of bed, my face was wet. But once my feet touched the ground, my choice had been made.

Although I suppose one could say it was made for me, anyway.

So I made the bed, washed the dishes, packed my own bags and left.