𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣
⊱ ─────────── ⊰

I hide under the covers from Chris. It's been a long night and I'm sure he's tired of me. Our date was fun, but that's just it.

We can't keep doing this but how do we stop? After all of this, it will be doing our own hearts an injustice.

The thing is, I like Chris more than I can admit. More than he probably suspects.

I can't keep playing this off like he doesn't set my soul on fire, but how do I tell him that? How do I tell him that it's him I want in the midst of all of this craziness - living with his uncle?

"Morgan..." Chris's voice fries.

I hear his footsteps shuffle inside of my lavender-painted bedroom but I ignore them.

"I had a good night. Thank you, bye." I shout from under the covers.

I hear him laugh a little. "That's it?" He asks with some expectation in his tone.

"Well, what did you expect?" I have to shout.

"Not you to be hiding from me. Can you come from under there at least?"

"No. Go away!"

"Malcolm isn't even here."

"Doesn't matter. Good night." My tone comes off harsh and that makes me feel bad, but I have to send him running.

"Alright," he says. "I had a good night with you, too." Chris's words are followed by his footsteps.

The door closes but I wait another three seconds.

A sigh of relief falls out of my mouth.

I emerge from the blankets, but am suddenly attacked.

It's Chris.

He tackles me in his arms and rolls on top of my body on the mattress.

"You really fell for that?" He taunts me, biting my nose.

I squeak under his weight and try squirming away but it's no use. He's too strong, and too cute. I can't resist.

I'm pouting, I know. I can't help it.

"Part of me wanted you to stay." I admit lowly, pushing the lone curl away from Chris's forehead.

"Why couldn't you just say that, crazy?"

My eyelashes flutter as I think of the words to say. "Because then it would make it real."

"What, this?" Chris assumes correctly. "Oh, this is very real." His deep voice makes my spine tingle.

There's a long moment of silence that proceeds but it's a comfortable one. Before, silence was never so easy with someone like Chris. If we were together and not talking it's because one of us was being petty or mad at each other. If I felt the cold shoulder from him, I'd be in my head about it, probably overthinking and overreacting - just waiting for him to break the ice first. I usually did.

A couple of minutes go by, more or less but I wouldn't know because I got lost in the wonders that are Chris's eyes.

I do notice, though, the delicate way he's locked our fingers over my head.

I get a good mental close-up picture of Chris's face like this. The way such a rugged man can be so beautiful and without flaws has me speechless.

Chris turns to position himself on his side but replaces his hands back onto my body.

His fingers outline my figure then stop at my hips for him to grab.

"I don't know what to say." I whisper, tracing his nose that I find perfect.

"What are you thinking about?"

I gulp. "Honestly? I'm thinking about the way I feel about you - about us. If there is an 'us.' I've just never felt anything or done anything like this before. You're special; you mean something to me. But I'm scared of not feeling like this one day."

Chris snaps his neck at me and gets a good look at my face. He glances away before I can read his facial expression but it's a neutral one.

"I'm not going anywhere." He assures me in my ear.

✕

At five-thirty in the morning I wake up for an early run like I've been doing since living here.

I yawn throughout the warm shower and manage to pull on a matching athletic-wear set and pair of Adidas running shoes.

I'm lazy with my hair, just throwing it up into a high pony, and moisturize my face before leaving the room.

"Good morning." Nurse Cora says to me as I navigate through the halls.

I nod my head at her with a small smile and return the "good morning."

As I edge another yawn, I select my "chill morning playlist" on my phone before putting on my pink noise canceling headphones.

I zip up my sleek black Lululemon 'define jacket' AKA "the BBL jacket."

It's too early for this, I think in my head. I hoped I'd get used to this working out shit, but nope. Trying to stay active hasn't been easy. Of course I've gotten into Pilates and hot yoga but cardio - so not my thing. I'm trying, though. It gets me out of bed early, I like being in routine here.

I come up on the incline hill leading back to campus and pause at a bench to catch my breath.

What a run.

As much as I disregard cardio, I can see why runners love it so much. There's a high you reach at a certain point that makes it all worth it. And during that climax, I feel like I could do anything.

Ready to take on one of my last days here, I get back on my feet and take a step only to run into someone.

"Oh," I verbalize apologetically. "sorry."

"Morgan." Dr.Mark Towson greets me.

I step out of his arms and stare up at him, confused as to why he's looking at me with such starry eyes.

"Good morning." I say, stepping around his body.

"It is, isn't it? How far did you run today?" He asks.

I pant for breath and point out to the distance. "Oh, uh, I made it to the fishing hole."

"You get further and further everyday. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to run away." He laughs at himself.

I force one, too, and look around his frame so I can start to walk towards where I was originally going.

"Well, I'll see you in group later-" my attempt to escape is a fail again as Dr.Towson grabs me by the wrist.

"I feel like we have some type of tension?" He says. I truly can't tell if this is a statement or question.

"I'm sorry?" I remove my headphones to make sure I heard him properly.

"If I did something to you, you can tell me because I feel like there's this tension. I don't know, maybe it's just me, but..." his voice trails off and eyes do the same. I trace them to cleavage spilling out of my lavender sports bra.

I cross my arms over my chest and clear my throat.

"No," I say firmly, "it's just you. Have a good day, Doctor Towson." I emphasize his position to remind him that he should be more appropriate with his patients, and leave him there.

✕

"—I don't think there's anyone in the world that loves another person as much as Chris and I love each other. What we have i-is spiritual. It's so special — I don't know, I can't explain it. I don't have to." I share with the class.

With all eyes on me, as I see when I peek up from my journal, I look back at most of them before swallowing hard to continue.

"Um," I stammer, "that's all I wrote, actually. I started crying so I just circled all the tear-stains and drew arrows pointing to them."

A round of hand claps fill the room, making me smile ear-to-ear. I'm happy something I wrote, something so vulnerable, can be shared openly with everyone in group therapy today.

"That was beautiful, Morgan." Brenda sniffs, wiping her eyes.

I nod my head, thankful. Honestly, I wasn't expecting anyone to listen, really. The assignment was only to write a few words about what means the most to us in the world. Clearly, my answer is Chris, so I wrote about that - how he makes me feel.
Next to scrapbooking and morning runs, writing (journaling) has been an outlet for me.

There's one girl, though, she doesn't smile or clap, or say anything. She just rolls her dark, low eyes and keeps a stale look on her washed out face.
Everyone here has probably been through a lot so I try not to judge her or assume that she's being mean to me, but her cold stares are starting to make me forget all that Dr.Rita Hassan and Tish have taught me.

Anyway, I shut my journal and take a seat across from the girl.

Dr.Towson sends me a look from a few chairs down but I ignore him. He's not Chris's biggest fan, and now I get the feeling that that's not only because he wants me to be single for my "growth."

Tish, the only person in here who I believe truly supports me, winks in my direction. She gives a subtle 'thumbs up' and then tunes back in to the next girl's speech.

𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻...

"—Alright class, thanks so much for your engagement today." Our instructor wraps the class with a perky hand clap.

Everyone leaps from their seats and files out of the room.

I'm behind the judgmental, staring girl in line and she suddenly comes to a halt, making run into her large back.

"Oop." I whisper, clutching my scrapbook and paper to my chest.

I catch the various Celtic images tattooed into her fair skin before she turns on her heels to face me.

"I don't like you." She says in a lofty voice.

I stiffly look around. "Me?"

"Ya." She affirms, looking my body up and down.

"Well, okay..." I shrug, walking around her body.

"All you ever do here is talk about how perfect your life is with your little boyfriend-" she shouts after me.

"Fiancé." I huff my correction.

"Whoever," she scowls. "If your life was so perfect, you wouldn't need to be here. You're just like the rest of us."

Realizing she's just fucked up and this isn't really a me problem, I shake off the hold that the tone of her words have on me and continue down the corridor.

✕

I'm having a dream — a really good one, too — when I'm suddenly awaken.

Sirens blaring and loud, surprised screams generate me to get out of my bed and check it out.

Cold at night, I step into a pair of slippers and carefully walk across the carpeted floor.

From the windows of my bedroom, all I can usually see is greenery - trees, shrubs, leaves, and breaks of sun or moonlight. However, now, I see red and blue lights blinking.

Curiosity peeked, I opened my bedroom door. It's a small walk to the lobby but that's where I head to. Only, I'm stopped by Tish.

She's in a deep red robe and silver satin bonnet.

"T?" I call out her name for some answers. "Psst. T, what's going on?"

She snaps her neck away from the scene and shuffles towards me in a fur-lined pair of camouflage Crocs.

"I was just coming to check on you. Have you heard?" She talks quietly to me.

I shake my head, confused as all heck. "Heard what?"

Tish, distracted by the policemen in the common area, keeps her hand over her chest and turns her head to the side to get a better listen.

"Tish!" I raise my voice at her but not even to make everyone notice us.

She parts her thick lips. "Doctor Towson's been arrested."

"For what?" I gasp.

Tish shakes her head, ready to tell me just as the answer is revealed via an officer dragging her along in cuffs.

"You know Marnie?" Asks Tish.

"Unh-unh." I shake my head as it follows this Marina girl.

She might've confessed how much she hates me earlier, but I don't know her.

"Mccht," Tish sucks her teeth. "well, she was messing with Doctor Towson."

"No!" I'm shocked.

Tish nods. "Turns out they're pretty fucked up. Details aren't known, but they said somethin' about pushing drugs through here to a few patients."

"What?" My disgust cannot be hidden.

"Mhm. They're just crazy."

"Yeah..." my voice trails off as I agree.

After the excitement wears off and Brenda instructs everyone to go back to bed, Tish and I head back to my room where Tish brushes my hair before I lie down on my pillow. She always does this, says it's because she loves my hair and thinks of me as a Barbie doll.

I let out a yawn and Tish takes that as her cue to leave.

"Tonight was eventful." Tish talks, standing.

I agree with the nod of my head.

Suddenly, I start to smile and Tish catches this.

"What are you smiling for, you did some of them drugs, too?" She jokes.

I sit up and shake my head, messing up my neatly brushed hair. "No, I just— for once, I'm just glad the drama has nothing to do with me. Nothing."