The Mating Run by Leeka

Chapter 52

Fake

My eyes flutter open, and I am met with the comforting sensation of being held. by Zeke.

In any other circumstance, being held in such an embrace upon waking up offers a sense of comfort, a quiet reminder of our strong connection. As my consciousness fully returns, a disconcerting truth settles heavily on my shoulders.

Zeke’s arms, which were once a comforting embrace, now feel constricting and suffocating. It isn’t the gentle embrace I expect upon waking; it’s a hold that leaves. me feeling confined.

I shift, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as my senses pick up on the presence of another camera. The camera’s unblinking lens is fixed on us, as if freezing the vulnerability of the moment in time. It’s as if a punch to the gut, the realization washes over me – we are being watched again, our every intimate moment exposed to unseen eyes.

And I just know that it is Zeke’s idea, as the sound of his voice echoes in my

mind.

Anger and betrayal surge through me, overwhelming my emotions.

I carefully untangle myself from Zeke’s embrace, the once gentle motion now filled with a hint of desperation. The weight of my emotions threatens to spill over, creating a heavy atmosphere around me. I crave distance, a breath of air to bring clarity to my thoughts.

I feel manipulated, like a pawn on a chessboard with every move carefully plotted.

The sound of something shifting beside me causes me to tense up, and I let out a quiet curse.

“Alina, what’s wrong?”

Through the silence, Zeke’s voice rings out, carrying a palpable sense of worry. Standing there, I can feel his gaze on me, his eyes filled with confusion. With a tired sigh, he rubs his eye and lets out a quick yawn. Although I despise it, a surge of concern for him floods my being.

At first, I remain silent, not answering. As he continues to stare at me, I let out a frustrated sigh. I mumble under my breath, the words barely escaping my lips.

“I just need to get out and get some air.”

As I speak, my voice trembles with the same intensity as the brewing storm

within.

Zeke’s voice echoes through the air once more, tinged with both anxiety and

perplexity.

“Alina, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

In that fleeting moment, the weight of my emotions makes me contemplate opening up to him, as if the words are begging to be released. I want to ask the question that lingers in my mind – what are we? And what does this mean for us? I fall silent, that we are still being watched, and that someone or something is

aware

observing our every move.

that he probably orchestrates all this, making himself appear like a concerned potential mate, fills me with

myself,” I mutter, unable to tear my eyes away from the

his tone filled

emotions.

so let’s stick together. If things aren’t right, we should face

other situation, I would welcome the sentiment.

Sun, 10 Mar

Fake

seems

eyes

please give

tension hangs in the air, and with each step I take away from him, it feels as though an invisible barrier is

with the raindrops, silently releasing the emotions that have been suffocating me. Like a bitter aftertaste, the feeling of being used as a

within me.

stand there, thinking to myself, I can’t help but wonder – is there anything real about our connection? Even when Zeke and I have tender moments, it feels wrong because we are just part of a

the bone and feeling exposed, and Zeke’s worried eyes

eyes mirroring a mix of worry and tenderness. I can feel the stark difference between the comforting warmth of the

sense of urgency, Zeke swiftly covers me with a warm

from another

so small yet so powerful, surrounds me with a soothing sense of security. I hug myself tightly, feeling the dampness

genuine concern, pierces through the heavy silence of the rain. With a gentle touch, he reaches out and brushes away my tears, his thumb leaving

I whisper, careful not to disturb our surroundings.

voice falls on deaf

“What?”

unspoken truths pressing on my chest. “Zeke,” I begin, my

on his face as he opens and closes his mouth, unable to find

me, the intensity of my

palpable.

from this. I can’t keep ignoring this or I’ll lose my mind. Give it to me straight. Tell me, what exactly are

storm inside me.

through me like an unstoppable flood, and I can no longer

of my frustration, confusion, and anger as I unleash my pent–up emotions. As raindrops fall, they mingle with my tears, distorting my view of the person who has become

torment.

real?” Each word I ask him is accompanied by the impact of my punch to his chest.

stoic and silent, taking in every blow without uttering a single word. The combination of understanding and regret etched on

ground and drowning out any

as my voice cracks with a blend of frustration and hopelessness. “Is anything between

#

my punches, silently watching as all my hidden emotions come pouring out. I feel lost, realizing that the answers I want are as hard to find

pounding against his chest. “Tell

our eyes meet, I can see a whirlwind of emotions brewing within Zeke’s

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