"𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠."
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 - A twenty-year-old woman with goals and ambitions working in the mafia. She's got people she dislikes but no...
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I left Scarlett's house a few hours later and headed back to Damien's. I was dreading the conversation that awaits us but I pushed open the double doors anyways.
At first, I heard no sound until Mango sprinted into the room and tackled me to the ground. We played for a few minutes and I blew her a kiss goodbye, letting her go back to her trainer outside.
There were no signs of Damien so I thought he still wasn't back yet. I hurried up the steps to change into proper clothes when I saw the door open. Rustling was heard and I quickly grabbed onto the gun in my bag, walking towards the sound.
When I stuck my head through the crack of the door, I saw Damien. He was searching for something in my drawers and my eyebrows furrowed.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, walking up to him to examine his face. He look pissed for one and didn't even look me in the eyes.
When he didn't rely I spoke again, "I know this is your fucking house Damien but you don't get to search through people's shit like that!" My blood begins to boil when I see he's located my sleeping pills.
"Are you some type of drug addict? Why the fuck are these in the drawer?!" He holds up the prescribed pills my mom had given me over the years.
I lose my temper and pick up all the tables, one by one I start sprawling them onto the top of the drawer. "Stop being dense Damien. All of these fucking pills have one word written on them. Sleep! Fucking sleep!"
He immediately goes quiet and I throw them onto the ground. My heart is beating at an erratic pace and I can feel myself getting tired. "The eye bags, the pills. What the fuck do you think it's for!"
His eyebrows furrow, "Naomi I didn't-"
"You called me a fucking drug addict. Get out. Before I do something I'm going to regret I want you to get out." I immediately walk over to my bed and search in my bag for my phone.
I slap his hand off of me when he tries to grab my shoulder. "I don't give 2 fucks if this is your house Damien, you're a vacuous human being. Get. Out."
He sighs before walking out the door and closing it behind him. The moment I hear the click of the door I grab a few tablets and throw them in my mouth, gulping them down with a bottle of water next to my bed.
My mother has prescribed me several pills but, I never really listened to her. They'd work at first then I'd have to increase my intake to sleep.
I don't know why Damien's words hurt me. It's something I've thought about for a while. I've been taking different variations of sleeping pills since I was a teenager. It's something I simply cannot live without. But does that make me an addict?
