ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴠᴀʟꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ

₀₁₇

𝘞𝘙𝘌𝘕 𝘑𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘚

A BAG OF PEAS ARE laying on my forehead when I wake up. My hair is in a loose bun, though I can't remember having a hair elastic. And when I slide the hair tie out of my hair, I notice it isn't a hair elastic at all; but a shoelace.

When did I tie my hair with a shoelace, and why? There's a blanket on me, and a bucket beside the couch. Puff is placed in the crook of my hip. I snuggle into her soft fur. She purrs.

When I get off the couch, I see my floor looking surprisingly clean, weird.

I walk into my kitchen and open my freezer to put the peas back in. Then as usual, I make myself a coffee, with the addition of aspirin. And when I finally sit down, I notice a small box on the center island.

I reach for it cautiously. When I open it up, I see two large pretzels laid neatly in the box. I break a piece off and chew it. Do i know if it's poisoned? No. Do I really care? Also no.

It's good. The pretzel is really good. But i've had it before-or something that tastes like it. Lex has a similar tasting recipe to this one.

Wait.

I practically tumble off my stool and run to my phone, it's laying on the coffee table. Not where I put it.

I snatch it and unlock it. The low-power notification pops up and I dismiss it quickly. It's still on the messages. I read it with shaking hands.

𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚: 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙯𝙚𝙡𝙨
𝙢𝙖𝙭 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙛
𝙢𝙚: 𝙬𝙧𝙝𝙗𝙙𝙝𝙤𝙙𝙗
𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚: ?

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

That's not even the right expression to use right now. There's no words for what I feel like right now. I'm just so...fucking stupid.

I knew I invited Rhys to my apartment, right before I went in the cab. He'd agreed. Then I came home and blacked out. And Rhys had kept his word and came over.

And taken care of me.

Rhys Moore aka the dick from work, had come into my apartment-with pretzels- when I was drunk and taken care of me. He'd put peas and a blanket on me, and left a bucket near me in case I threw up. And I hadn't needed the bucket before, but I sure as shit needed it now.

An awkward fluttery feeling takes over my stomach and i'm sure i'm going to vomit. It's like someone set loose a million tiny butterflies in my belly and they're all jumping up and down. I want to brutally murder each and every one of them.

I pace around my apartment as i'm trying to remember events from yesterday. Like what did I say, what did i do? Just thinking about telling him about my...drinking problem makes me want to hurl. But what if I told him about my mother. Everything about my mother.

Puff gets up from the couch and prances to my feet. I pick her up and bury my face in her warmth. Though she doesn't feel the warmest to me anymore. My mind might not remember what it is, but my body does. It knows there's something warmer.

"Puff. What am I going to do?" I look up at her big beady eyes and sigh. This can only be settled one way.

I'll ignore that this ever happened.

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