𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝟮 ⁑ t.holland

5. therapeutic

I felt the warm sun shine onto my back, my head sinking into the pillow. I felt like I was being consumed by my bed, eaten alive. I didn't mind it at all either.
Every noise, every worry, every feeling was no longer swarming me and I was left with utter peace and quiet. It was nice; being left alone for the first time in a while.

He pushed me onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his toned abdomen. He smirked and crawled over top of me, pressing drunken kisses along my neck, my chest, down my stomach and right above my waistband.

My eyes snap open, the feeling of another person sleeping next to me making my blood begin to boil. Annoyance hitting me like a damn soccer ball to the face.
I was already hungover-- head was pounding, eyelids felt heavy, nausea kicking in. I wanted to pull the covers over my head and pretend that I was the only person left in the world. That I had nothing else to worry about. To just hide and stay that way forever.

But I felt him shift on his side of the bed-- fuck-- there is no "his side of the bed", it's my bed and my bed only.
I slowy pull the covers off my body and sit up, grabbing an old shirt off the floor and putting it on. I grab a pair of underwear from my drawer along with another pair of sweatpants and finally stand at the end of the bed, contemplating how I'm gonna get him the hell out of my apartment.

I think for a few moments, looking around my room for something to wake him up. Eventually, I grab a pillow that had fallen off the bed during, uh...

A moan escaped my lips, my back arching as he--

...yeah, that.
I gripped onto the white pillow tightly and slam it onto the side of his face, resulting in him jumping up and looking around the room, panicked.
His chest heaved with fear and his eyes were open wide before landing on me. His expression softened and a gentle, polite smile pulling at his lips.

I looked down at him for a second before scratching the back of my head and throwing the pillow back onto my side-- my bed.
He leaned back onto his elbows and kept looking at me. "Good morning, cutie" He smirked, making the nausea in my stomach skyrocket.

I grimace slightly and stand there, not quite knowing how to tell him to get the fuck out. "Yeah..." I nod awkwardly, "Good morning, I guess." I mutter.

He grabs his shirt, boxers, and pants from off the floor and puts them on, keeping his shirt for last just so he could stand up and show off his muscles one last time. I flash him an awkward smile and open my bedroom door, gesturing my hand out so he'd take the hint and leave.
But, with my luck, he stood there, frowning.

"Kicking me out already?" He asked while tilting his head to the side and faking a poudy face.
How drunk was I?

I stand there, pure disgust coursing through my limbs. "Um," I hum quietly. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

He finally pulled the shirt over his head and walked over to me, not seeming too interested in walking out of the room at all. We locked eyes for a moment before I had the chance to turn my head and bite the inside of my lip. Sure, he was hot-- but none of that even mattered to me right now.

I felt like shit, I wanted to shower and then, probably go back to bed. 
I didn't need this 6'4 hunk of muscle to stand here and flirt with me for the rest of the day while he made me pancakes or something. I wanted him out so I could just be alone.

His smile gradually washed away at the sound of the harsh words leaving my mouth. His brows knit together and he stammers a little, looking for something else to say.
"But, last night--"

"--was great." I stop him, looking back up into his dark brown eyes. "But, this is the part where you get the fuck out of my apartment. It's what a one night stand is all about."
With another wave of my arm, he slowly drags his feet across the hardwood floors and walks out of the room.