Eat The Rich (bxb) | ✔

Chapter Three

MICAH BLEU

By the time I get home Valentina is still up, her body lays across our battered sofas. The TV being the only source of light in the room, reflecting against her tanned skin. "Hey," she croaks as she watches me walk through the door.

"Hey," I reply, shutting the door behind me. The creakiness makes my skin crawl. "Why are you still awake?"

"Because I was worried about you," Valentina says as she swings her legs round the sofa and places them on the floor.

"About what?" I question, throwing my keys down onto the kitchen top and shrugging off my jacket.

Valentina taps her phone and looks at the time. "Well normally you're home over an hour ago and I wasn't sure if something at work happened."

I roll my eyes before plopping myself down onto the sofa next to her, forcing a smile. "Honestly, the tubes at this time of night are bloody awful. I had to wait like twenty minutes because there was someone who pressed the emergency button and you get no signal down there."

"I just hate London at this time of night and you know it," she rubs her eyes quickly before slamming her hand back down onto the sofa.

"Vee, you know I've been doing this job for almost three years now and nothing bad has happened on the journey home, it's always so busy and people are getting ready to go out." I explain to her.

"I know," she raises her hands up in defence. "I know I'm paranoid but I'm just looking out for you."

I flash her a smile even though my body just wants to collapse into my bed and get ready for university tomorrow. "Don't worry, I can defend myself."

Valentina snorts a short laugh out of her nose and I narrow my eyes at her instantly. "What?"

"You couldn't even fight your way out of a paper bag Micah, have you ever been to the gym?"

My mouth gapes at her response. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't say that," I grumble before standing up. "I have my keys between my fingers sometimes when I think I could be in danger."

"Me too, although I bet I could do nothing." She says seriously. It's such a shame we live in a society where we can't walk freely at night or even in the day time without worrying about our own safety.

"I'm going to go to bed because I am shattered." I declare.

"Alright, good night."

"See you tomorrow," I say quietly before shuffling myself to my bedroom. Ignoring the mess and falling face down onto my untidy bed.

. . .

I wake up extra early before class so I can catch up with my mum. She says she's okay but I never know whether to take what she says seriously. She never wants me to worry but I can't help it.

Every few months I actively take time out of work and studying to visit her, she says that seeing me makes her day. Guilt always drowns me but I know that I am doing this for a better life for us, so I can give her the best care possible.

I plan on going back home in a few weeks before exam season starts, so I can focus on getting the grades I have worked hard for and deserve.

Knowing that I am on course for a first is relieving but final exams can fuck everything up, one bad grade and you can drop down instantly. I've been studying since the beginning of the year, revising to my heart's content. I can't even remember the last time I went out to a bar or a club and got absolutely off my face.