𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

52 || Puppy Shit

It was unnerving to say the least, but I stopped confronting him about it after the first time. I'd asked him to stop and he'd told me it was impossible for him to leave me alone when he had such bad m separation anxiety.

And so I ignored him.

I thought it was the end of it.

But as I stare down at the document in my palm, was handed to me a moment ago, I can't help but want to rip my hair out at his antics.

Nico Blaine had officially gone insane.

He'd given me The Ossor.

Not a single apartment, not the penthouse, but the entire luxury sky rise building that now belonged to Josie Dumont.

It'd been handed to me by a lawyer, along with a single sticky note attached and one sentence sketched in his messy writing.

Like I said, it's all fucking yours.

I didn't even know it was possible, nor did I know the man had the rights to do that. Although the more I glance down at the name- The Ossor, the more I realize that it's Rosso spelled backwards.

I exhale through my nose and rub at my temples.

I didn't want it - much less anything from him, but he was making it so hard.

I may have been dirt poor, in debt and on the verge of homelessness, but I had enough self respect to know that I wasn't going to take anything from someone who could very well use it against me in the future.

It takes an hour of contemplation before I decide to suck it up and confront the man and it takes me another hour to find the right people to get me access to Nico's penthouse, seeing as I'd given my only keycard to Ella - who'd claimed to be far too busy for me these days.

Only when I finally do step foot in the penthouse and find two figures sprawled across the living room couches, I realize none of them are who I'm looking for. 

I pause, take in the mess around me before lifting my gaze to the head of dark braided hair that I know to be Ella's and then to the sight of Margo's red-dyed head next to it.

I slowly walk towards them, "Well you two certainly look busy." I announce.

Ella bolts up, her posture rigid and although I'm staring at the back of her head, I can practically see her guilty face as she begins to stammer. "Uh- I can explain-"

The sudden panic in her voice makes me feel awful. She had nothing to be guilty of, I wasn't the best person to be hanging around these days.

I was miserable to be around because I myself was miserable.

With a sigh, I decide to let it go as I round the couch and come to stand before the two girls. "It's fine Ella. You don't need to explain." I assure, watching Ella's shoulders visibly relax.

I turn to muster a smile at Margo, who leans back in her spot and brings a fistful of popcorn to her mouth, while her eyes run up and down my figure. "You look miserable." The causal monotone of her voice has my guard rising.