Patricia
I wake up with a start, feeling like something important is missing. I look around, and the absence of Dior hits me like a freight train. A sudden pang of loneliness strikes my chest like a bullet.
Lost and confused, my eyes dart around the room, searching for the man as if he would be found behind a piece of furniture. f**k me. Did he leave?
My head throbs. I'm already planning on listening to Adelle and quench the fires of pain wracking through my body, but then I hear it, Dior whistling.
A song from my Youtube playlist is on low volume, and Dior is whistling along with it, as happy-go-lucky as ever. What the hell?
I stare at the bathroom door, and in a barely-awakened state, I slide down onto the floor. My feet touch wood, and I silently sail forward with my head emptied f
