Hated By All, Loved By Four

✯•✿Cold Evaluation pt 2✿•✯

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ*:.:..:...VALERIA'S P.O.V...:..:..:*Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

I don’t know how long I slept but when I woke up I felt alot better. Still tired as hell but better than I did earlier. The apartment was eerily silent, and it made me feel slightly uncomfortable being there alone. How long was I out? And why aren’t the owners of this place back?

I searched for my phone to text Malcolm, only to find the device with a message from him waiting for me.

Malcolm Knight: I’ll be back in twelve minutes, I have to stay a bit longer.

This was sent over thirty minutes ago. Should I be worried? I threw the blanket off my body and made my way to their lavished kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I didn’t even get to open the bottle when bile rushed out of my mouth. I aimed at the sink, throwing up every single thing I’d eaten that day. Which was just breakfast.

I threw up black liquid, over and over for ten minutes. It seemed never-ending. As I was rinsing my mouth, hunched over, I could hear the front door opening. I couldn’t move from where I was clutching the sink, my mouth open over the water pouring out of the tab.

I’m tired again, and empty. And confused. I smelled sulphur and spicy perfume. Those weren’t equated with Malcolm, or Sebastian. They were scents I expected to get from-

“Baby doll.” Maddox. My breathing came to a sudden halt causing me to choke on the water I was drinking. He wrapped his slender fingers around my hair, pulling it out of my face and wrapping it around his wrist. His free hand rubs my back. How did he get into this house?

“Breathe, slowly. I need you to relax and breathe in. And out.”

His voice both soothed my nerves and caused them to spike up all over again. I don’t understand what he’s doing here, but at the same time, I don’t know how to fight against it or argue. My mouth is dry, and the taste of that black liquid lingers.

Eventually, my body was able to stop, and I was able to move my head away from the sink. Professor King released my hair, his eyes glancing over at the sink and then at me.

“This isn’t good. You need to sleep doll.”

What?

My eyes firmly shut, and come back open. I’m in the exact same position I was in when I awoke from the couch earlier. At least I think so. I picked up my phone which is weirdly at the same spot I left it, and checked the time. Same time, same unread messages.

Was that a dream? It felt so real. It was real. It had to have been but everything around me is telling me that it wasn’t. I pulled the covers higher, refusing to move from my place. I swished my feet together and felt something off.

I threw the blanket to the side and lifted my right leg up to see a new ankle bracelet wrapped around it. My pulse quickened, and fear clawed at my heart. The front door opens, and my eyes fly to it. Almost as if I’m preparing myself for the worst. For Maddox to reappear.

But he doesn’t. Malcolm is the one to walk through those doors and my relief only lasts a minute as his nose twitches.

“That bastard was in here.”

I wasn’t sure how to even begin explaining it. I don’t understand the situation myself.

Malcolm turned his eyes my way, then he came over to check on me.

“What happened?”

I tried to explain the best I could. Telling him that I woke up and saw his text then I decided to get water. I don’t know what possessed me to spill out everything like I was incapable of keeping my mouth shut. Or aligning my brain with my mouth. The more spoke the less sense it made, at least to me. Malcolm moved his eyes from mine to my legs. He noticed the new ankle bracelet, which was the only defense I had for what was happening to me.

Although I can’t explain everything, I do know that it wasn’t up to seven hours. And Maddox had walked into this apartment without needing to knock. That said alot to Malcolm who looked like he was ready to hunt the doctor down and skin him alive.

I brushed my fingers through my hair and leaned my head back against the couch.

“I don’t understand what this day has turned into.”

“It’s not your fault. This school.... it doesn’t fix people. I mean, it does. But it doesn’t fix them the right way. Not unless you threaten them and make them do it. If you don’t, they’ll take what makes you you and turn you into the perfect version of what they presume you should be. If something feels wrong here-” he pointed his finger at my chest. “Trust it. I’m a nice guy, I know. But if I ever give you a bad feeling, then go with it. Trust your instincts.”

I couldn’t do that. I have led myself down the wrong path before, I’ve been tricked. While I want to trust myself, I really really really want to. I just know I cannot. My brain is a f*****g disaster right now.

To distract myself, I tell Malcolm that I want to return to my apartment so I don’t cause any more trouble. Maddox wouldn’t have come in here had it not been for me.

Mal insisted on walking me home, and he was smart to do it. My head wasn’t straight, and my legs felt like jelly.

At the apartment building, I rubbed my hands up and down my trousers.

“I’m sorry again. I know how you feel about Maddox, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just-”

“Don’t. Like I said this isn’t your fault. Tomorrow is Saturday, do you have any class?”

I thought about it while looking at him like he was insane. He wasn’t angry at me at all. Heck, he wasn’t angry period. He was worried about me, and I don’t get why. This man doesn’t know me, my therapist invaded his home. All signs point towards him being angry like any normal person.

“No. I have a therapy session, I’ve missed my classes for today.”

“Skip it. Come hang out with me Seb.”

“I-”

“Please. Maddox wouldn’t come into my house unless he was really interested in something. You having his attention isn’t a good thing, and I’ll never forgive myself if I let you go through this school year with no warning. So skip the session tomorrow, and come hang with me and Sebastian. Or at least come to us after the session.”

I nod, only because I feel uncomfortable about Maddox being in their home and I’d like to apologize some more. Malcolm beamed like I’d offered him the moon on a silver platter. Then he hugged me. It was weird being hugged, and at first, I wanted to ask what I’d done to deserve a hug when I realized that Malcolm probably is a touchy guy.

Nice, and affectionate.

I let myself enjoy the hug before pulling back. “Thank you for being nice to me. I’m sorry if I ruined your day, sebastian’s day, and Kaito’s day. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Malcolm gave me a small, knowing smirk, the kind that felt both endearing and cutting. “Believe me, crazy t**s,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “this isn’t a ruined day for us. I think the only person whose day is completely trashed is yours.” his amusement was gone.

I blinked, feeling the weight of his words sink in like stones. I held his gaze, but I could feel myself unraveling inside. Malcolm’s day would continue, filled with laughter, distractions, and probably a marathon of scary movies with his best friend and boyfriend. He’d be busy lifting their spirits, pouring his energy into something positive. Meanwhile, I’d be here, alone in this apartment, trapped in a loop of self-doubt, replaying every decision, questioning every little thing, and sinking under the guilt of things I couldn’t control.

He was right. My day was the only one that felt entirely shattered. The realization settled heavily in my chest, and I tried to swallow down the ache rising in my throat. I forced a smile, but it felt weak and fractured. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I managed, my voice thinner than I’d intended. “I think… I think I’m just going to sleep it off, try to forget today even happened.”

Malcolm’s expression softened, and he gave me a reassuring nod. “Alright. But text me if you need to talk, okay?”

I murmured a thank you—maybe the millionth one that day—and waved goodbye, watching as he waited just outside the elevator until the doors finally closed. When he was out of sight, the silence hit me, loud and pressing, like it was wrapping itself around me and closing in. My roommates were out, probably off somewhere having a life, and the empty apartment seemed to echo with everything I was trying not to feel. My roommates were out. Likely doing their own activities.

By the time I made it to my room, I was exhausted—not from any physical effort but from the weight of emotions I’d been pushing back all day. I barely made it to the bed before collapsing onto it, my body sinking into the mattress like it was the only thing holding me up.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, the tears started to fall, slowly at first, then pouring out with a force I couldn’t hold back. My breath came in uneven gasps, and I buried my face in the pillow, letting the sobs come, unfiltered and unrestrained. I wasn’t even sure what I was crying for—was it frustration? Regret? Or maybe the helplessness of feeling trapped in a loop I couldn’t escape. The fact that I almost drowned? That I’m alone? That I ruined someone’s day just by being present?

My emotions were tangled, twisted together in a way I couldn’t make sense of, like an unspoken storm I’d kept hidden too long.

For what felt like hours, I lay there, releasing everything I’d kept bottled up. The guilt, the confusion, the loneliness—each tear seemed to carry a piece of it away, but somehow, the emptiness only grew. My sobs eventually quieted, leaving only the dull ache of fatigue in their place, the rawness of exhaustion that ran deeper than any sleep could cure.

I sent a text to Maddox before I fell asleep, I needed to point it out to him. I needed to send my confused hurt at the person who seemed to have made the day end as poorly as it did.

Me to Maddox King: As my therapist, I’m supposed to be honest with you. My day started fine, then it got slightly worse but without a doubt the person who f****d it up even more was you. The real truth of today is, I would have bounced back better had you not been there. Malcolm was right, wasn’t he? You can’t help me. If I caught your attention somehow, I want to give it back.

I closed my eyes, sinking into the quiet, letting myself drift, hoping that tomorrow might hold something better or, at the very least, a chance to begin again.