Queen

I turned and twisted in the bed- falling in and out of sleep as I tried to relax my mind. The attempts proved to be futile each time I opened my eyes and darkness stared back at me. I missed him. I was used to sleeping with him. Even when I couldn't, I could at least fall asleep knowing that in the morning I'd be in his arms with him fast asleep behind me. I didn't have that feeling with me right now though.

Everything felt off.

I groaned into the pillow beside me, cringing at the warmness. I felt fucking hot. I didn't have any nightmares that I could recall but my shirt was soaked. I felt disgusting.

I threw the covers off of me, swinging my feet to the floor and standing up. I walked toward the restroom, lifting my shirt above my head and tossing it aside. Maybe a shower was what I truly needed- maybe it'd wash away the memory of every single thing that happened today.

I wanted so badly to believe that it was all some bad dream. A dark part of me wished that Drake had somehow put a temporary spell on Syn- making him a douche for tonight and he'd go back to normal in the morning. Because he most definitely was not acting like the man I knew and loved.

I stayed in the scalding hot shower until I felt my fingers prune up and I couldn't see past the steamed shower door. I ran a hand past my head, wringing the water out of my hair as I stepped out of the shower.

I walked to the mirror, wiping my foggy reflection until I saw myself clearly, and grabbed a towel. I dried my hair, my eyes lazily on myself as the mirror began to clear up. I felt better. It wasn't a huge difference but at least I didn't feel like I was dying inside anymore.

"You're good, babes," I whispered to my reflection, eyeing my body passively- faint bruises and hickeys from Syn still painted across my skin. I almost smiled at the memories of them until I remembered the moments in the office. That sent my already bitter mood down to the pits of Hell. How could he do this to my body— my skin was covered in evidence of his failed control of himself yet it was all bullshit? "No fucking way," I talked to myself. "Dick was hard as fuck..."

I pulled my hair aggressively with the towel as every single touch and kiss placed on me in the office and basement were analyzed in my brain. Syn could act his ass off and he was an amazing liar— but his body would have been able to tell me what his mouth wouldn't...I would have known. I would have sensed something considering how on edge I was. I was watching his every move like a hawk yet I sensed nothing.

Thinking about it was making my head hurt.

Fuck him for that.

Fuck him for me not being able to sleep...

Fuck him for my cramps—

My goddamn heat flashes— for everything that was and wasn't his fault right now. I blamed him.

I set the towel down harder than I should've, the flickering lights evidence of how unstable I was and I closed my eyes, sighing. Calm down...I took a deep breath. Everything was fine—"

I screamed out in pain as I felt a burning across my skin. A single sharp line of pain tore through me, making my hand move to the spot. When I looked down, I saw my bloody hand and I cried out as the torture continued. I grimaced, sinking onto the cold floor. It felt like my skin was being carved from the inside out and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

The bathroom door burst open and Syn ran to my side. "What's going on? Are you okay?" I screamed, tears burning lines down my cheeks and Syn's gaze fell onto the skin above my rib cage as confusion filled his eyes. "Did you hurt yourself?" He stood up, grabbed a small towel from the counter, and turned on the faucet. I fell on my side, my head resting on the floor as the piercing pain suddenly stopped- replaced by an excruciating throbbing on my skin.

"You're okay," Syn said as my cries became ragged breaths and sniffles. I felt the cool towel against my skin, gently wiping at the wound and I winced in pain. I took the towel from his hand, holding it against the wound and he grabbed the large towel above us, wrapping it around my shoulders. I wiped my running nose with the back of my bloody hand and he held the towel tightly on both sides of me. "What happened?"

I couldn't speak, the traumatizing moment leaving me a frozen mess on the floor as I looked at him. He waited for an answer and I tried to open my mouth to give him one when a shiver ran down my spine. He was fine. My eyes fell down his bare chest, down to the defined area above his rib cage. I reached out to touch him, my blood painting his skin and I sucked in a sharp and tantalizing breath.

Nothing.

He moved back from my hand. "You're getting blood on me, Princess." The word didn't sound right. It was his voice, but the cadence and weight of his voice in the second part of the word were abnormal.

I immediately dropped my hand, holding it to myself as he stood up and cleaned himself off in front of the sink. Syn wouldn't have cared. He would have made sure I was okay— he would have felt what I was feeling as if it were his pain. It should've been his pain- I couldn't have done this to myself...it was impossible.

I backed up slowly on the floor, the man in front of me wiping away at the bloody handprint I had left on him as realization began to fill my mind. I looked down, moving the blood-soaked wet towel away from my skin momentarily. Staring back at me, were two pronounced red cuts forming an 'X' over my tattoo.

A tattoo of Syn's name.

If something goes wrong, I promise I'll send a message. I swear.

This was the message. It had to be. It confirmed the gut feeling I had been conflicted with from the moment he came into the house....how did he get in?

My eye twitched, tears involuntary falling down my cheeks as I hid the cut and looked back up at whoever was in the bathroom with me. He was looking down at me and I let out a shaky breath. "I don't know what happened..." I said lowly. "I must've accidentally cut myself."

"With what?" He raised a brow, crouching down to my level and reaching out for the towel I was holding against my skin. I moved back, shaking my head and he scrunched his brows. "Are you still upset with me?"

What? I looked at him in confusion before what he meant registered in my head and I swallowed. "I just want to be alone tonight. This was an accident— I'm fine."

He sighed. "At least let me help you back to the bed." He reached out and I stilled, not wanting to give him any clue as to what I was thinking. If he was here and Syn wasn't, that meant that he had to be in trouble. If it wasn't for that fact alone, I would've stabbed every inch of his skin until I got my answers.

I studied him, his lip twitching into what seemed like the beginning of a smile before he frowned in "concern". This guy was enjoying seeing me cower here— he was getting high off of this shit. I knew guys like him. Granted, I never thought they'd look like Syn...but stranger things had happened.

Either he was some life-like cyborg or this was a full-on case of invasion of the body snatchers. I didn't know which one it was just yet, but I would soon enough. This wasn't just my life at risk. It was Syn's too. If there was ever a time for me to use my head, it was now.

I nodded, playing into the damsel in distress act and he leaned forward. Disgust filled me as his hands slid under my thighs. I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders, my other hand still firmly on the towel above the cuts. With another arm around my back, he carefully lifted me off the floor and carried me out of the bathroom. 

He laid me on the bed, and I scooted back, resting my head against the headboard and pulling my knees against me. He eyed me for a quiet moment, glancing at the large bed before looking at me. "Do you want me to stay—"

"No," I answered quickly- maybe too quickly. If he sensed the lack of hesitation, he didn't say anything. Instead, he nodded and headed toward the door. "Wait," I called out and he turned back to me slowly, making my blood run cold. I worked through the fear, covering myself with the towel as I spoke. "Where's Paris?"

"Why?"

"I- uh...I was supposed to watch a movie with him tonight," I lied. "And I didn't hear him come in. I was wondering if—"

"Paris isn't here," he said quickly.

"W-where is he?" I sniffled.

"He had something to take care of," he said. "He'll be back soon."

"Okay," I whispered with a quick nod, biting my lower lip anxiously. "So it's just us here."

"Like it should be." He smiled. I returned one that I could muster up and he sighed. "Listen, about what I said...I didn't mean it. I don't know what came over me—"

"Don't worry, it's not like you haven't said it before," I replied. "I'm just emotional right now."

He looked relieved by my words- as if I were confirming that he was doing a convincing job of pretending to be Syn and I held my breath. "We'll talk in the morning then," he said.

"Sure." I nodded.

"Great." He grinned. "I'll make breakfast. How does that sound?"

"Okay," I whispered. "Sounds good."

"Good. Have a goodnight, Queen," he said. "I love you."

"Same."

"I'll be right across the hall if you need me," he said.

He was just telling me- but there was a chilling edge in his tone. It was like he was letting me know that if I tried to leave- he'd only be across the hall. It was a warning. Surely he couldn't have known that had I already clocked him...

"Okay, Syn."

He winked at me before closing the door. I stayed still, listening to his retreating footsteps before hearing the door close. With that, I sucked in a sharp breath as I stood up and rushed to the door. I immediately locked it, needing that tiny bit of safety before letting my mind run wild with possibilities.

What the hell...

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