SLEEPSONG (BoyxBoy)✔️

Chapter 126

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Six

I was in a daze.

Don't get me wrong, I looked as pristine as I could possibly be considering I'd taken the time to do my hair before throwing on the pleated skirt I'd brought with me, complete with the thigh-high stockings that Tiffany had boldly encouraged me to bring along, but inside I was a mess.

Literally and figuratively since Sebastian and I had made some pretty intense love when I'd woken up and the aftermath always had a weird way of saying hello minutes or even hours after I'd already cleaned up. A messy side-effect of dealing with someone so hung, I assumed, since he literally never pulled out and always crushed himself as deep as he could during his orgasms.

I thought it was hot, to be honest, but at the same time it was a little bit of a pain to deal with afterwards since, as I've already established, werewolves have regenerative abilities and it doesn't simply affect their metabolism or blood cell count.

It also affects reproductive ability.

Let's just say, sex with him was messy and leave it at that.

The last two nights passed me by in a blur of activity and while being busy kept me from thinking about the fact that I was in danger thanks to some unknown catastrophe looming over my head, it was only when I was alone that the fear hit.

It was a deep, endless chasm of emotion that welled up from inside me and swallowed my heart like an existential crisis, the feeling of circling around and around through the what-ifs of life and death which I constantly suppressed and tried not to think about, but so much worse.

I knew something bad was going to happen because of my talk with Sebastian, knew I had to be on my guard, but being on my guard made me want to panic. I was glad I'd been busy these last two days, busy enough that I'd blotted nearly everything out.

Certain things stuck out to me, though, like on the first night when Sebastian and I had visited the ancient, decrepit, boarded-up, historical-looking monastery he'd grown up in.

I recalled every moment of how he'd told me of his childhood, from how he'd been abandoned by his father at the tender age of nine months and left without even a blanket on the front steps.

My heart had ached for him upon hearing it, but he'd said it with zero emotional attachment.

"Growing up, I was afraid of running into my dad," he'd told me. "Afraid that he'd see me in the street and somehow recognize me as the child he left behind. Afraid that he would see me, and see all his reasons for leaving in the first place confirmed."

"He didn't leave because of you Sebastian," I'd scolded. "He left because he was a shitty person."

"I figured that out a long time ago," he'd muttered, shaking his head. "However, I don't think many parents would be proud of their child for becoming a monster, and then a murderer. I've killed thousands upon thousands of men and women over the last five hundred years."

I'd pursed my lips. "You did what you had to. You survived. And because you survived, you managed to make a good life for yourself. I think your parents would be proud of that."

After that, he'd walked throughout the dust-covered rooms of his childhood in total silence, simply drinking everything in. It wasn't until he'd stepped inside what looked to me like a very small stone closet that he'd let out a small sound.

"This was my room," he'd told me, stepping in and looking around; I'd followed his gaze, noticing that there was a hole in the stone structure and that the ceiling was falling apart. What I thought might have once been furniture lay in rotted piles of scrap beneath rubble and quarry.