The Devil's Favourite Obsession
“You flinched at a fucking car.”
“It was just a car,” I snapped.
“A black tinted one that slowed down right beside us,” Chloe added, voice too casual.
I stopped walking, my pulse spiked, Zara studied me with those quiet, knowing eyes.
“You’re not sleeping. You’re barely here.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing my legs to move again.
But I wasn’t fine, I noticed everything now, every slow-moving vehicle, every set of eyes that lingered too long, every silence that felt like it was waiting for me, I was drowning in my own paranoia, and my friends could see the water rising.
Bab Populer