My Possessive Criminal

Capítulo Sesenta y Cuatro

Previously on MPC

'Xanthe says goodbye to her sister. Don't worry, she's gone for good.

When Xanthe sees Arsen for the first time after realizing she's in love with him, she asks him to confess where he'd been when he left.

He tells her that his sister died.

Enjoy this chapter, ma duuudes!'

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Chapter 64

When it first started happening, it was around the time I'd recovered from insomnia and I had just broken up with Jerome, the most stressful I'd ever been.

I'd randomly get these sleep-panic-attacks and I'd wake up all sweaty at two or three in the dead of night, and I'd have no idea why. I could be having the calmest dream or no dream at all, and I'd wake up as if someone were about to throw me to a pack of wolves.

It stopped when Arsen kidnapped me, and I think that was due to the shock. I was so wrapped up in wondering what was happening, I'd completely forgotten about my mental illness.

Well, one of them.

After the night Arsen told me about his sister, it started again. And not because it reminded me of something that had happened to me, but it made me realize why Arsen seemed so weak, and so not him, ever since he'd got back.

It worried me - something I hadn't felt in a long time.

It's been a week, and it seems to be getting worse.

This time though, when it happened, it was kind of due to a nightmare and the fact that I needed to pee.

Taking the glass of cold water from the little table in front of the chaise lounge, I gulped it down and tiptoed quietly to the bathroom, only turning the light on once I'd fully gotten in.

I hated the bathroom vibes at night, reminded me of when Antonio used to wake up around the same time and come in here to smoke weed or some other drug that wasn't legal.

Once I finish up in the bathroom, washing my hands extra hard to take off the uncomfortable feeling of sweat, I turn the light off before walking out quietly.

Before I turn to the chaise lounge, my eyes catch on to Arsen.

It's kind of weird. After everything that's happened, I still sleep on the chaise lounge and he still sleeps on the bed, even though I know if I wanted to, I could hog that whole damn thing.

I guess there's something about the chaise lounge I just really like.

Walking up to him, I sit down next to where he lays, a little to the edge so he doesn't feel the bed dip.

He always sleeps in that same position. Curled on his right, with one hand under his arm and the other over the cover.

I put my hand against his forehead, the heat radiating off of it before I can even touch, realizing his temperature isn't the normal kind of warm. I brush his hair away from his face. His silky, smooth hair almost a dark gold with the moon shining on it.

Every time I brush it away from his face, it falls back to where his eyes are, and they twitch unconsciously.

Bringing my hand to the side, I stroke his cheeks gently, concerned that he's burning up real bad. After a minute, his head moves slightly in the direction of where my hand is, and his features relax a little. I smile at this, slowly leaning down and kissing his temple.