𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 | 𝟏𝟖+

19 | Addiction

I attempt to lose myself in the world of Cato's textbooks. Due to my subpar reading ability, I'm only half certain that the textbook is titled Astrophysics, but all the letters jump around the page, and majority of assumption comes from the image of the galaxy on the cover.

Yet, long ago, it were nights such as this where Cato and I were bound. We'd open up a textbook-maybe even the one I hold now-and lose ourselves for hours in a world beyond our own. Now, this textbook remains a gift, but why? Why now?

It's been weeks since we encountered at the gala, and I thought he'd be deterred by me leaving his study without his permission. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe our little shared kiss on his desk got me under his skin as if I were an itch he can't seem to scratch. He made it quite clear that he wasn't in love with Gemma Patton, but rather, was marrying her for the business relation. His relationship with Gemma must've persuaded Frank Patton to make the Leveque's partners in the research centre he plans to build, one that gives Thomas mountains of headaches. Bloody hell, Cato's name is in there. It must be for Cato's research.

Cato.

It's so strange how that man runs my emotions up hills and then drops my heart down at the pit of the sea.

But Cato's not the only one who has my heart within their grasp.

Cato sends me to the stars, but Thomas sets everything within me ablaze.

My mind fills itself with images of Thomas. Just a flash of his smile. His bare skin. His lips. His chest. His-

Oh daffodil.

I shoot up from my bed, Cato's textbook tumbling onto the floor.

Thomas is a whole other deviation in my reality. Cato had always been my center of attention, but then Thomas came in and shrouded my clarity with his smoke and ocean eyes. All it took was one 'yes' to work alongside him and look where that brought us. We're entangled now-so entwined that I distract him from his duties.

And to cure him from that distraction, he's started to push me away when I want him to pull me in closer. It's like I'm in withdrawal from his attention, his kisses, his touches, like I'm diagnosed with some sort of addiction to him. He hooked me on him, and now he's all I want.

I crave the man like the man craves a cigarette.

He's everything that could scorch me in the end, leaving me with burns and scars in his wake, but it's a heat I covet.

I close my eyes, dreaming of having his strong arms laced around my body. My fingers travel up the dragon tattoo itching up his bicep-one inked and the other bare, yet scarred sunkissed skin. I study the way my touch follows the pronounced veins that strike from his muscles. His whisper wanes in my ear like a distant echo: daffodil, fall.

And yet, I can't, because when my eyes open, I know Thomas isn't here.

He's out at Vince's bar or gallivanting the cityside on some sort of business ordeal. Or rather, he's asleep. What would he say if I arrived at his doorstep? He always asks me to stay, despite making me the least of his priorities. I should wait until morning, but the night is still quite young and I'm desperate.

I want him.

Now.

Gosh, I'm going mad.

What I'm about to do is stupid and naïve, and it goes against the only lesson that I know: to stay.

The world tells me I'm safe with the Leveque's, and I know I am, but what the world doesn't understand is that I'm safe within Thomas' arms. I trusted him with everything that I am,.