Red Room Hours with John Tan

Forgive

Back in your dorm you carried your sheets down to the laundry room and set your mind to getting rid of every trace of John. While they washed you organized all your toys and shoved them deep into the back of your closet. It would be a long time before you'd feel like pulling them out again. You didn't want them laying below your bed taunting you. The memory of John bound and at your mercy still lit flames in your tummy, so you hoped that extra distance would extinguish them.

The wilted roses hit the trash can before you could think too hard about it but you paused before you dropped the teddy bear after them. It's beady little eyes almost begged you not to give it the same fate. You decided to toss it in a donation box at the student center next time you went through.

Organizing your clothes you found a T-shirt of John's, black with an anime girl, typical attire for him and you folded it into a plastic bag. You grabbed his toothbrush and shampoo from the bathroom and added them.

By the time you were tucking clean sheets around your mattress you'd convinced yourself you didn't need to think about him. You settled in and pulled your laptop out to review your work for tomorrow's classes when someone knocked on your door. You looked at the clock, after nine at night, you weren't expecting any friends. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice.

"Y/N, talk to me for a minute please!" John's voice echoed through the door, why did he sound so desperate? He didn't get to ruin your evening to make himself feel better.

You frowned and pushed off the bed, sweeping the plastic bag of his things off the chair as you stomped to the door. You opened it quickly and slapped the bag against his chest halting his progress forward.

"Take your stuff and leave." You released the bag and when it started falling John grabbed it and you pushed the door shut, the catch of the latch loud. You locked it and returned to your bed.

"Give me a chance to apologize. I really like you and I didn't want any of this to happen." You froze glaring at the door. There wasn't anything you wanted him to say, but definitely not sorry. You pulled your headphones over your ears and started a playlist and all the sounds of his pathetic apologies drifted away. You weren't going to absolve him of anything just so he could ride off into the sunset guilt free with Bree.

You didn't know at what point he gave up but almost an hour later when you turned off the music to get ready for bed he wasn't speaking anymore. If he was outside your door he was silent. You quietly finished your bed time routine and slipped under your covers.

Closing your eyes you waited for the sleep to tug you under but it didn't happen. Your brain kept throwing out images, John's arms pulling you in, his lips down your neck, his hands teasing all the most sensitive parts of your body. He didn't belong to you anymore, why did these thoughts tingle all the way between your legs?

If he was outside right now defeatedly leaned against the door, what would happen if you let him in? Would he let you take out your frustration on his body? Let you mark his skin and muscles with bright red streaks from your toys and hands? Would he let you use his mouth and hardness to make yourself feel better? You groaned squeezing your thighs together, the wetness dampening against them, practically dripping to the freshly washed sheets. Why after everything did he have this effect on your body?

Would having another red room hours with him where you punished him brutally make you feel better? Would licking the perspiration from his skin and gliding your hands over those strained muscles allow you to forgive him? Allow you to let him go? Last time it hadn't gone well, you'd lost control and worried you could actually hurt him. You knew he was stubborn enough to let you, he had only used his safe word to protect you.