"Are you alright? You seem... flustered." Oh no. This is so embarrassing. Dear floor, please swallow me whole.

"Umm... I'm just nervous," I lie, "you know, with the appointment tomorrow and stuff." I keep my eyes on the floor, shuffling my feet around. Please don't ask anymore questions.

I feel him approach me and see his shoes appearing. I gulp nervously. I've never had a guy this hot stand right in front of me. Let alone seen a guy this hot. I peek up at him, to see a smirk on his face. His teeth are so perfect.

This man is perfect.

"Are you lying to me?" he queries. "Come on. Tell the truth. I won't tell anyone."

"It's nothing."

"Did you talk to Ian?" At his name, I quickly look down to hide the blush appearing.

"Y-yeah. I did."

"How was it?"

"He made an appointment for tomorrow at 11:00am. He sent the address and floor." And a smiley face at the end. He sounded way too serious to even be capable of using a smiley face. That's so cute.

"Can I see?" Oh my gosh please don't see. He'll see the smiley face and think something happened.

I hand him my phone and quickly say, "I don't know why he added the smiley face. I swear I didn't do or say anything."

Dante continues to smirk as he reads the message. "I can take you tomorrow. It's a five minute walk from here," he says, giving me back my phone.

"Ok, seriously, why are you being so nice? Do you want something from me?" I ask, really confused at his desire to help me.

"I already told you my answer, many times. It seems as though I have to repeat myself." He takes a step closer to me and bends slightly to whisper in my ear, "what goes around, comes around. I'm being a nice person, helping others."

His warm breath sends shivers down my spine. Good shivers. I close my eyes and relish the feeling of his closeness. "Now tell me, why were you flustered before?"

Wanting to make him happy, I answer his question breathlessly, "because I love his voice." That earns a kiss just below my ear and a peck on my left cheek. Is it just me or is it hot in here?

I leave my eyes closed as I feel him step back. "I was wondering if you want to go to dinner with me since you don't have food to eat," he says.

I open my eyes and see he now has a normal face. No smirking, no anything. Just neutral.

"I'm sorry but I think I'm just going to stay here the rest of the day. I'm really tired and I need time alone to think," I breathe out.

"Ok sweetheart. If you need anything then call me, ok?"

"Ok. Thank you." He leaves the room and I walk over to the bed and fall face down onto it. I'm so over everything. It's too overwhelming. I left my past behind and now I'm stuck with trying to figure out a way to move forward.

The old me used to deal with everything in a negative way, by making my mental pain, physical pain. But I'm not the old me. I'm the new me and I'm going to deal with it properly. With a nap.

Who am I kidding? I'm even afraid to sleep. My life is ruined and my childhood will always be with me. There's truly no escape. I don't know how to move on. Therapy didn't work, medication had a very harmful effect on me.

I've been pretending for so long that I don't know if I will ever get better. My psychologist said I will get better. She thinks I am. The truth? It only worsened my mental state.

I've declared myself a hopeless case. I'm impossible to heal. No one has ever done it and no one ever will.

Finally letting the tears fall, I turn around to face the ceiling. I know a panic attack is coming. It always does. It always will. And I hate it but I can't stop it.

My chest tightens and my oxygen supply starts cutting out. The tears fall endlessly and I begin clenching my teeth on my arm, to prevent the screams from escaping. My heart beats too loud to be safe and I cover my ears. It hurts. It hurts so bad.

In the distance, I can hear my phone ringing. I can hear my name being called. But it's too painful. I can't breathe. Someone help me. Please save me. I'm drowning and I can't breathe. I bring my arm back up to my mouth and bite as hard as I can. I can't scream.

The tears don't stop. The pain doesn't stop. Nothing is going. I'm going to die.

Someone help me. Please.

The pain continues for an eternity, before I begin to drift off. Maybe, just maybe, things will get better.

The next time I open my eyes, I'm laying in the same position. Sometimes I wish someone could sense my pain and come to my aid. But that doesn't happen. Things like that don't happen.

I force myself up and walk to the closet and pick out a jumper and some trackpants. I grab a pair of socks and undergarments then head to the bathroom. I'm drained. And numb. I can't feel anything.

I set my clothes on a small shelf in the bathroom, which I couldn't see from before, and turn on the shower. I hate showers sometimes. I hate large amounts of water. I hate a lot of things because of my childhood. And it's so hard to live sometimes. But I do.

I wash myself as fast as possible and get out, making sure to wash my face properly.

I dry myself, wear my new clothes and start brushing my hair. I always try to keep my hair just below my shoulders and not longer. When my hair gets too long, it reminds me of my childhood and, believe it or not, worsens my mental state.

So many little things remind me of my previous life. I guess that's why it's so hard to heal and move on.

I need to set a new routine and start a new way of doing things to hopefully sway my mind off unwanted memories.

I hand the towel on the rack and head back to my room. Only then do I notice a small brown bag on my desk. Was someone in my room? Without giving it much thought, I open the bag to find a cinnamon donut and a chocolate muffin.

Someone was definitely in my room. I walk over to my bed and grab my phone to check it. Two missed calls and a message from Dante.

Hey Lexi, I thought I'd buy you something to eat so you don't get hungry. I tried calling and knocking on your door but you didn't answer. The shower wasn't on so I assumed you were having a nap. Hope you don't mind that. Call me when you get this message.

Of course he's being a gentleman. That's all he's been since I've met him. I do owe him a call. I dial his number and wait for him to pick up.

"Lexi. Are you ok? I'm sorry about walking into your room but-"

"No, it's fine. Thank you so much for the food. You really shouldn't have. Really, I can take care of myself. You don't have to keep helping me. Also, it's your hotel, so you can walk in whenever I don't answer in case something happens to me."

I wish he walked in before I fell asleep. Then maybe he could see my pain and help me. But that's selfish of me. So selfish. I'm not one to smother other people with my problems.

They're my problems for a reason and I have to deal with them. Sure I might need help. But in the end, I'm the one who's living with my problems so it's me who has to deal with it.

"Did you have a good nap?"

"Yes I did thank you."

"That's great to hear, sweetheart. If you ever need anything please let me know, ok? I don't want you to suffer in silence." Does he know I had a panic attack?

"Thanks Dante. You're the best. I owe you, big time."

"You don't owe me anything and you never will. Tomorrow I'll be at your place at 10:30 so we can leave and be there early. Better to be early, right?"

"Yes. Thank you. And thanks again for the food."

"You're welcome. See you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

I take a seat at my desk and look out the window. The sky is a pretty orange and pink, the clouds glowing from the sinking sun. I take out the donut and start munching on it.

I could get used to this. Sunsets, quiet evenings, alone. No one to bug me or force their opinion on me. I like this.

Dante. How did I ever get lucky enough to meet him? You know when you feel an instant attraction to someone, without even knowing them? Just by looking at him, I knew I liked him. Maybe more than like.

It's sad to think that he could never love me. Even if he did, my mental breakdowns and internal conflict will surely make him flee.

No one can ever deal with me and no one ever will. I'm too far gone to even consider recovery. I'd have to lose my memory or something. But I don't want that. In a way, my past has made me stronger and more independent. It's made me who I am today and I love who I am.

That's the thing with me. I never trust someone enough, in case I need to leave them or withdraw from them. It takes a lot for me to become personally attached to someone, and when I do, it would mean the end for me if they ever leave.

Maybe it's because I need the extra support and reassurance from others to make sure that I'm alright. If they leave, my support crumbles and I turn to ash. I'd be gone, unable to function. It happened once before, where a close friend of almost seven years told me she couldn't deal anymore with my mood swings and the way I am.

It tore me to pieces and I almost took my life then and there. It was so hard, constant crying day and night. But I got through it. That was only the beginning of my misery and definitely not the worst.

I want to see Dante again. I don't even know if he has a partner or anything. What if I search him up? I'm sure some information will come up about him.

I search up D-Hotels on google and find a wikipedia page about him. I don't even care if it's not reliable.

Name: Dante Alston

Age: 26

Relationships: No known previous relationships, currently single

I stop reading after that, too ecstatic with my findings to care about anything else. I have a chance. A slight chance. Maybe no chance at all. Maybe he doesn't like girls. Even if we did end up together, I still have that battle with my mental health and I'm not sure he wants to be a part of that. I don't want him to be a part of that.

Finishing off the muffin, I throw the rubbish in the bin and call it a night. I need to prepare for tomorrow and that includes trying to sleep from now. Since I don't really sleep much, I can at least get more rest.

I send a quick text to Dante.

Thank you for the food. Goodnight.

Not even ten seconds later, I receive a message back.

Anything for you. Goodnight sweetheart.

For some reason, I feel at ease tonight. The usual restlessness before bed has somehow disappeared. Maybe Dante can help me overcome my sleeping issues.

No one's ever managed to fix it. But Dante only sends a text and I already feel better.

Hugging my phone and smiling, I slowly fall into a peaceful sleep with only one thing on my mind.

Dante.

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