INEBRIATED - Adam Sackler.

Chapter 6 - Relapse & Rain.

   "Pass me one," Adam spoke, voice groggy and his large body sticky with sweat, nude beside yours, "A cigarette, I mean." He added, looking over to you.

   He had quite literally just fucked the breath out of you, your exhausted body laying beside him in his creaky bed. You tried to catch your breath, a grin cracking on your face.

After a moment you nod in response, leaning to grab your box of cigarettes and lighter off his nightstand. You pass the items to him, watching him pluck one between his lips and spark it up to burn.

And as you laid back down onto his bed, your mind started to race with thought. You couldn't stop thinking about the night before, how you had gone to the bar, and then how you had ran into Adam at that corner store.

You were more then happy to be back in his bed, in his arms, the smell of him sticking to your skin. It all felt familiar, like home, but that didn't stop you from overthinking, mind running rampant.

You hadn't told Adam about going to that bar. You weren't sure if you wanted to, it was pathetic almost. You couldn't help but feel guilty about it, but you trusted Adam. He had once said he wouldn't judge you for your addiction, but you couldn't help but wonder if he possibly would with this.

The one thought that pressed you the most was the thought of how he almost made you relapse. He held so much power over you, even with only knowing him for so little. He had started to dictate how good your mood was, what you thought about, where you went, what you did.

You couldn't hold it in anymore. Being with him was about getting better, becoming a better person.

"Can I tell you something?" You murmur, pulling the sheets over your sweaty and glowing naked body.

You turn to him, his gaze looking down at you as he sits against the headboard. He nods silently, cigarette between his lips. He knit his brows, waiting for your next words.

"That day...when Hannah was here, I— I almost relapsed. I went to a bar and just sat there..." you trail off quietly, turning away from him as you swallowed thickly, your confession sour on your tongue.

You watch his inky brows slowly raise and then drop, his thick fingers pulling the cigarette from between his lips. "What?" He responds, tensing up.

You could see it hurt him. His once glossy and lust filled eyes had turned distant and cold. You hoist yourself up on one arm, taking in a shaky inhale. "I almost relapsed." You say again, clearer.

"Why?" He asks, voice unreadable.

You slowly shake your head, opening and closing your mouth. "I...I don't know. I think it's because I thought it would make me feel better, make you feel guilty." You say.

You let out a shaky exhale, rubbing your hand over your face. "I think I wanted to make you feel guilty for hurting me." You confess.

He's frozen for a moment, his hand snuffing out the cigarette in an empty mug. He slowly stands, peeling his boxers off the floor and pulling them on quickly. You sit up in concern, watching his large and toned back turn towards you. You couldn't tell what he was feeling.

"Are...are you mad?" You ask, voice a quiet whimper.

You watch his shoulders rise as he takes in a deep breath. "Am I mad?" He asks in a condescending tone.

He turns on his heel towards you, shaking his head. His face was now hard, lips pressed into a thin line as his nostrils flare. "Yeah, I'm pretty fucking upset. You just said you wanted to fucking hurt me." He hisses, hands in the air.