I close the book on my lap, shut my eyes, and throw my head back against the headboard of my bed. For this past hour, I've been trying to read something related to my work but can't focus.

What happened inside the painting room yesterday lingers in my mind, and I can't go to sleep. Tonight's going to be a long one.

My mind goes crazy. Seeing what was written on Olivia's card again angers me but it doesn't bother me as much as seeing Nevaeh's teary eyes when I told her to leave. Now, it's the only thing that I can think about.

I run my fingers through my hair and curse. Fuck.

I hate this. I hate this restlessness inside me. I hate this feeling.

This has been triggering me for quite a while, and it becomes more obvious the more I spend time with Nevaeh. I remember feeling something I shouldn't have.

My heart raced. I became nervous. I got...excited.

"Fuck." This time, I curse out loud.

I still remember how nauseous I was when two girls clung to me in the club the night I met Alex. I'm very sure that I wanted to throw up.

But strangely, I felt the exact opposite when my eyes landed on Neva-- Fuck.

This realization makes me want to laugh in disbelief.

Indeed, I had a boner once when she was around. I had a fucking boner.

It doesn't make any sense. For these past two years, I've seen attractive women approaching me and I feel nothing. On the other hand, Nevaeh is just a girl. She's not even a woman.

Goddammit, she's even younger than my little sister. What the heck is going on?

I can't feel something like this only for her. I can't be turned on only by her.

My gaze darts on my laptop sitting on my desk in the corner of my room. This might be ridiculous, but I need to see something. Maybe, I'm not that fucked up anymore.

I walk to my desk, open my laptop, and let out a long sigh.

OK. Here we go. What am I going to do now?

Right. Watching porn.

I'm going to watch porn. I can't even remember the last time I watched porn. Hell, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

Reluctantly, I type the web address that half of the population of the world knows, and a lot of videos show up.

Now I'm starting to think that I'm indeed fucked up, because a horrible feeling starts to stir inside me. Hell, no. I need to prove something.

I scroll through the web page. There are a lot of options for me. I'm just going to find one that sounds most interesting.

A secretary giving a nice BJ. No.

MILF getting railed by the gardener. No.

Pizza delivery guy and a cute brunette. No.

College girl with an older man. #tutoring

The last one seems... quite tempting.

I don't know why, but I click it.

The video plays, and I watch it, hoping that I would feel something.

The flow is okay. It starts with the girl entering the man's house and him inviting her to sit on the couch.

The girl looks at him dreamily under her lashes. She has those fuck-me-eyes and the man has 'horny' written all over his face. There's no doubt that they can't wait to fuck each other.

And I watch. Quietly. Too quietly.

The horrible feeling inside me becomes worse. I feel nauseous, just like I always do every time I see this kind of intimacy.

Sick. I feel sick. Nothing else.

I don't feel horny. I don't feel turned on. I feel the worst kind of feeling.

I'm so close to vomiting that I don't even bother to stop the video. I immediately close the laptop with a loud thud and find that my hands are already shaking uncontrollably.

Fuck.

I storm into my bathroom and throw up into the sink. I can't even reach the toilet. I turn on the water until full capacity and keep throwing up.

My chest heaves up and down rapidly, and the sound of my coughs echoes loudly inside the bathroom.

I'm a fucking mess. I'm indeed fucked up.

My eyes squeeze shut as I keep shouting in my mind. Get them out of my head. Get them out.

I'm sure that the voice in my head is no longer shouting. It's roaring. It wants them gone, but they'll never leave me.

The images of them doing it, the images of their cruel betrayal never stop haunting me.

I hate what I just did, because now all I can see is them. All I can hear is them, lost in pure bliss and ecstasy, having no idea how much it destroys me.

The darkness that has never left me since the day I found out about their betrayal engulfs me. I throw up so much that I don't even fucking know how the hell I'm still able to stand on my feet.

Fever. Aiden is having a fever.

Everyone in the penthouse is worried after finding out that Aiden collapsed in his bathroom. My heart has been restless since I heard about that from one of the maids.

Ian is busy calling the doctor while Ashton has stormed into Aiden's room.

Meanwhile, here I am, standing near his door anxiously. I don't know if it's okay for me to enter the room.

I don't want Aiden to get mad at me again. I don't want to make his condition even worse.

The door is slightly opened, and I can hear Ashton's voice. "You can't say that this isn't concerning. As I said, it's about time that you go to your therapist."

"No." Aiden's voice is hoarse. It sounds weak, and my worry escalates. He indeed sounds like he's very ill.

"Why are you refusing?" Ashton insists. "Denying everything is not the way to heal."

Silence falls for a while, until Ashton's words startle me. "It's okay to come in, Nevaeh."

My pulse quickens. Damn.

He knows that I'm listening. I can't help it. I just want to know what happened to Aiden.

Slowly, I push the door that it's now fully opened. I walk into the room, keeping my head down. When I look up, the sight before me makes my heart sink.

Aiden is sitting against the headboard. His face is pale. The front part of his hair is a bit wet, perhaps because of what happened in the bathroom. He's sweating too. He looks miserable and tortured.

He doesn't land his gaze on me, at all. Maybe he still doesn't want to see me. What am I doing here?

"I'm sorry," I say softly. "I wasn't planning on eavesdropping. I was just..."

Worried. Say it, Nevaeh.

I take a deep breath. "Worried about you, Aiden."

Aiden still doesn't look at me, but I notice his eyes soften.

Hope fills me. Maybe he's not that angry anymore after the pot incident.

Since I hear no response, and since I'm not comfortable with this silence, I ask, "What happened?"

Aiden doesn't answer. But then, when he's about to open his mouth, Ashton beats him, "He got extremely sick to the point that he collapsed," Ashton pauses, "after..." He looks at the desk in the corner of the room.

"After...?" I echo, raising my eyebrows. I want Ashton to finish the sentence.

Ashton gestures toward the desk again.

"Nothing's there," Aiden cuts off before Ashton can speak again. He's breathing rapidly. "There's nothing you can find there. I just had a bad dream."

"Bad dream?" I whisper. "Like before?"

Aiden nods.

I saw how painful it was for him to have that nightmare, so I can't imagine what it's like tonight that made him throw up and collapse.

To my surprise, Ashton lets out a small chuckle, and that's when Aiden glares at him.

"I think Aiden needs to rest," Ashton says to me. His voice is rich with amusement. He then gives Aiden a knowing smile. "Nevaeh's hot chocolate will be served in a while."

I stare at Ashton with a lost expression. Did he just read my mind?

Ashton walks off. I glance one last time at Aiden before walking out of his room to make the hot chocolate. He tears his gaze away from me, and that's when I realize again how drained he is. He looks so tired. His piercing amber eyes are dimmed.

When Ashton and I pass the living room on the way to the kitchen, I can't help but call him, "Wait."

Ashton halts, and I stop short too.

"About Aiden," I say breathlessly. "What kind of nightmare did he have this time?"

I know that it was indeed worse to the point that it made Aiden sick.

Ashton turns around. I freeze as I see his serious expression.

"About his nightmare," Ashton says, "you haven't heard all of it."

Hi guy, I know that it might be late, but Happy Valentine's Day! :)