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.

all this, making himself appear like a concerned potential mate,

eyes

tone filled with a frustrating and helpless blend

emotions.

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

in any other situation, I would welcome the

10 Mar

Fake

seems far from

to him, our eyes

just please give

with a frown. The unspoken tension hangs in the air, and with each step I take away

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

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

the bone and

the backdrop of the 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 the rain–soaked world outside, intensifying the

Zeke swiftly covers me

another

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

of the rain. With a gentle touch, he reaches out and brushes away my tears, his thumb leaving a comforting warmth on my cheek. “What’s the problem? What’s

I whisper, careful not to disturb our

falls on deaf ears.

“What?”

take a deep breath, the weight of the unspoken truths pressing on my chest. “Zeke,” I begin,

once filled 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 between us is palpable in

intensity of my

palpable.

I’ll lose

seeping into my bones, mirroring the storm inside me.

through me like an unstoppable flood, and I

pent–up emotions. As raindrops fall, they mingle with my tears, distorting my view of

torment.

by the impact of my punch to his

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

and drowning out any

voice cracks with a blend of frustration and hopelessness.

#

Instead, he just takes all my punches, silently watching as all

I plead, my fists pounding against his chest. “Tell me this is real. That you’re not

our eyes meet, I can see a whirlwind of

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