I woke up to my alarm screaming at me like we both had an resolved personal issue.
8:00 a.m.
My photoshoot is happening today.
My head went all over the place in what was not up to second, but I didn't move at all. I just lay there for a long minute, staring at the ceiling, while thinking about how the hell I'm supposed to help myself the whole day. I felt like soldier in world war two, because oh boy I was feeling very sleepy. My p***y still gave that low, constant throb that never left anymore, like it was permanent punishment for existing without him.
I rolled over, pressed my face into the pillow, and breathed.
His scent was gone from the sheets now.
Three days of sleeping alone, of him leaving before I woke, of coming home after I was already locked in my room with headphone
