My brown eyes snap to the woman whose attention is still on me, "Caught me doing what?"

Cayden cocks her head to the side, "Staring," she murmurs before putting the blunt out, "What is it? Or why were you staring?" she asks forwardly, which easily catches me off guard given that I can't exactly answer the question.

"I..." I trail off when her dark eyes meet mine again as she lays the put-out blunt on the balcony railing that we're both leaning our arms on, "Your tattoo—the paper airplane, what does it mean?" I ask knowing I can't exactly say how attractive I think she is.

Cayden smiles, "To me, it means to always remain carefree, and just go with the flow... When you throw a paper airplane, there's no definite direction where it's supposed to go. Instead, it flows with the wind in whatever direction it takes it, which is what I try to practice—flowing with life and letting things or people come and go," her smooth raspy voice explains.

I raise my brows as my eyes grow heavier, "That's beautiful," I murmur thoughtlessly, but my stomach twists in nervous knots when I realize how straightforward that was.

"Thanks... do you have any tattoos?" she asks as she rests her head on her open palm while her elbow rests on the balcony.

I feel myself growing more nervous and flustered knowing I have her undivided attention. How her eyes are only on me in curiosity, or the way she chose to stay out here with me, rather than head in or shoo me off somewhere else. My eyes wander up to her dark hair that's pulled up into a tight high bun, illuminating her sharp attractive features. I find myself admiring how her lips poke out further than her perfectly curved nose which sits in the middle of her sharp cheekbones, or how her long dark lashes lay across her cheeks when her eyes close for even a brief moment. She's truly one of the most beautiful people I've laid eyes on.

I clear my throat as I force my heavy eyes away from the attractive woman yet again, but I easily notice the way her lips twitched upwards at the dazed state she unintentionally put me in. I play with my hands as my elbows rest over the same balcony that Cayden's leaning on, but the action itself doesn't distract me from the woman whose eyes are still burning into me.

"I um... don't have any tattoos, but maybe one day," I answer her question that had been lingering in the cold air for a while, "That's probably dissatisfying to you since you have so many," I add unsure of why I feel embarrassed that I don't have any tattoos like Cayden, or why I feel the need to get one just to impress her.

"No not at all, tattoos aren't everyone's thing... It's kind of like one person being into basketball and the other into football," her smooth voice explained, "Think of it as a hobby, y'know since getting multiple tattoos can be so time-consuming, let alone picking out one,"

I find myself smiling softly to myself at her explanation which felt like more of a reassuring approach. Almost as if she felt my embarrassment, and was basically trying to clarify that there's no reason to be embarrassed. Even though the little act shouldn't have, It made my insides grow warm at the idea of her easily reading my thoughts or body language.

"If getting tattoos aren't a part of your hobbies, then what is?" she asks, which easily causes my eyes to snap to her dark orbs that are seemingly already on me.

I feel so pathetic at how impressive it is for someone to be just a little bit interested in me. I mean that's so sad, but my 'boyfriend' isn't ever interested in me along with my parents. My roommates who are also my friends are somewhat interested, but not like this—not like Cayden, who's staring at me in the most abstract way. Like I'm some piece of rare art among the blandest and most common art pieces, and she just feels so desperate to know more about me.

"Well I attend NYU for Behavioral Analysis, which takes up most of my time, but when I'm not busy with school then I'm at the gym or out at bars or parties with my roommates," I briefly answer her, but I somehow feel like my life sounds boring.

Cayden smiles lazily, which easily forced my heart to pump rapidly in my chest, "Behavioral Analysis? That's really cool,"

I can't help the smile that unintentionally spreads on my face at her praise, "Yeah, it's just really fucking hard," I laugh.

Cayden tilts her head, "So... can you read my behavior or thoughts right now?" she asks and I find my smile growing wider at how cute she managed to sound when asking such a simple question.

"Well, I finished my core classes in sophomore year, which means I've only been taking classes specifically for my major for maybe... a little over a year now," I explained as Cayden kept her eyes strictly on me waiting for me to say more, "So to answer your question, no I can't exactly read your behavior or thoughts since I've barely learned enough to do so,"

Cayden shakes her head, "I'm sorry, but college is fucking stupid. I mean why wouldn't they have you take classes specified to your major the entire time?" her raspy voice asks.

"You're telling me... It's like the schooling I was forced to participate in before I started college was all for nothing," I breathe out in disapproval.

"The education system can be ignorant sometimes,"

"Sometimes? You mean all the time,"

Cayden lets out a beautiful laugh, which easily causes my heart to flutter before practically soaring up to the moon that's glowing on both of us. I grow disappointed when her laughter fades, and I almost find myself tempted to try to make her laugh again—just to hear the beautiful sound that leaves her lips.

"I wonder what Seb is up to," she declares, which easily causes my body to stiffen slightly. Being here with Cayden honestly made me forget that I had a boyfriend, or that I'm living a fake life centered around keeping the peace and making everyone happy.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, "Yeah I should probably go check on him,"

Cayden hums in amusement, "You say that like he's a child that burdens you with responsibility," she points out.

I raise my brows with pursed lips, deciding I shouldn't comment on that—mainly because her comment was meant as a joke, but in reality, Sebastian really is a burden of responsibility. Though, Cayden wouldn't know that... No one does.

"Have a good night," I murmur as I back away from the rail and turn on my heel.

"You too," Cayden whispers as I walk back into the warm house.

When I made it upstairs to our bedroom, Sebastian was watching tv in the dim bedroom illuminated by the two lamps on either nightstand. I slid past the tv and grabbed some satin pajamas from my silver suitcase before heading into the attached bathroom. I change into the matching pajamas before brushing out my long brown hair and washing my face. I hold back the sigh willing to escape my lips when Sebastian enters the bathroom which suddenly feels too small.

Sebastian stands behind me as he wraps his long muscular arms around my body while I lazily brush my teeth, "I like these pajamas," He murmurs into my neck as he refers to my satin cream tank top and matching shorts.

"Thanks," I say through the white foamy suds in my mouth as I resist the urge to pull away from his nauseating hug.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up when his warm hands slide under my tank top and begin to rub my bare stomach. I lean over the sink and spit the toothpaste out before pulling out of his hold to head into the dimly lit bedroom.

"Vina," he calls from behind me as he grabs my hand causing my body to go rigid, "I miss touching you... sexually," he murmurs as he pulls me back into his bare chest, and I can't help but think that the last time we did have sex—it was far from making love.

I cringe internally as my bare leg brushes his plaid pajama pants, "I'm-I'm just not in the mood tonight," I force a weak smile as I hesitantly stare up into his green eyes.

Sebastian huffs, "You're never in the mood," he points out with irritation soaking his tone.

We've had this recurring conversation more times than I can count, but usually he just leaves it alone and goes to bed. Somehow by the tone in his voice, I don't think he'll be brushing off my repetitive behavior, and I don't blame him—I mean something is clearly wrong.

"Jesus Vina what am I doing huh?" he asks as his voice grows in a sickly volume, "What am I doing to make you hate my touch so fucking much?" he pushes me back from him causing me to stumble back on my bare feet.

I stare down at the wood floors with hopes that they'll swallow me whole and take me away from this doomed relationship.

"God, just fucking look at me!" his fist collides with the white wall causing me to suck in a sharp breath as my body tenses in a flight or fight mode.

My heart drops when our bedroom door swings open causing my eyes to hesitantly gaze over to the familiar raven-haired woman that I just finished a tranquil conversation with on the cool balcony. Even though I barely knew her, I somehow felt the need to kneel at her feet and thank her for interrupting this frightening conversation that was quickly going downhill.