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.

the fact that he probably orchestrates all this, making himself appear like a concerned

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

a sigh, his tone filled with a frustrating and helpless blend

emotions.

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

I would welcome the sentiment. However, things are anything

10

Fake

seems far from sincere.

to him, our eyes locking in an intense

give me

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

shielded from the intrusive gaze 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 have been suffocating me. Like a bitter aftertaste, the

within me.

about our connection? Even when

the camp, soaked to the bone and feeling exposed, and Zeke’s worried eyes lock with mine.

figure casting a striking silhouette against 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

sense of urgency, Zeke swiftly covers me with

from another

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

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 my cheek. “What’s the problem? What’s making you

careful not

voice falls on

“What?”

on my chest. “Zeke,” I

warmth, stiffen. There is a brief flicker of uncertainty on his face as he opens and closes his mouth, unable to find the

intensity of my

palpable.

running away from this. I can’t keep ignoring this or I’ll lose

my bones, mirroring the storm inside me. Facing Zeke, my emotions boil over with

and I can no longer keep them in

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

torment.

of my punch to his chest. “Stop doing

blow without uttering a single word. The combination of understanding and regret

pounding on the ground and drowning

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

#

lips part, but all that fills the silence is the sound of his shallow breaths. Instead, he just takes all my punches, silently watching as all my hidden emotions come pouring out. I feel

his chest. “Tell me this is real. That you’re not

I can see a

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