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.

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

unable to tear my eyes away from the rain–soaked ground. “Just, you know, think about things,

lets out a sigh, his tone filled with a

emotions.

let’s stick together. If things aren’t

authenticity in his words, and in any other situation, I would welcome the sentiment. However, things are anything but normal, and

Sun, 10 Mar

Fake

seems far

to him, our eyes locking in an intense

please give

nods, his face etched with a frown. The unspoken tension hangs in the air, and with each step I take away from him, it feels as though an invisible barrier is forming, separating

of the cameras, and allow the rain to drench me. As the rain pours down, my tears blend with the raindrops, silently releasing the emotions that

within me.

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

soaked to the bone and feeling exposed, and Zeke’s worried

shelter, his eyes mirroring a mix of worry and tenderness. I can feel the stark difference between the comforting warmth of the shelter and the biting cold

of urgency, Zeke swiftly covers me with a warm towel, likely

from another

with a soothing sense of security. I hug myself tightly, feeling

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

breath, I whisper, careful not to

on

“What?”

of the unspoken truths pressing on my chest. “Zeke,” I begin, my voice a fragile whisper. “What are

with warmth, stiffen. There is a brief flicker of uncertainty on his face as he opens and closes his mouth, unable to find the right words. The heavy weight settling

the intensity of

palpable.

this or I’ll lose my mind. Give it to

the storm inside me. Facing

me like an unstoppable flood, and

my pent–up emotions. As raindrops fall, they mingle with my

torment.

word I ask him is accompanied by the impact of my punch to his chest. “Stop doing

in every blow without uttering a single word. The combination of understanding and regret etched on his face makes the silence all the moré infuriating. As if

and drowning out any other sound.

with a blend of frustration and hopelessness. “Is anything between

#

his shallow breaths. Instead, he just takes all 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 as the raindrops falling

chest. “Tell me this

eyes meet, I can see a whirlwind of emotions brewing

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