❝will you leave me? You said you're leaving soon and-❞
His fingers brushed against my thigh, almost comforting.
❝ never.❞ he replied. his slender fingers travelled to the left side of my chest, cold as always.
❝i'll be in here❞
*************
after f...
<<You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.>>
0 1.
e a r l g r e y
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***
I WENT TO bed somewhat sober that night. But that didn't make me forget anything that happened in the café. Especially that mysterious, hooded person.
Jacob and Melissa decided to 'excuse themselves' to Jacob's room (mocking my accent), which happened to be right next to mine, forcing me to stay awake because of the sounds of them screwing each other. And they were hitting it hard. I was scared the walls were going to give way, as it seemed his headboard was against it. I do wish someone would hit on me like that.
It was a weird wish, due to the forced sex I had with Noah. But we're all animals at some point, aren't we. As I lay in bed, compelled to hear Jacob and Melissa next door, many thoughts clouded my mind. I'm an LDS member. It took a while, but I did it.
It all happened right after the whole Noah fiasco, really. They helped me rebuild myself, and showed me that the Holy Ghost really could show me the way. Yet here I was, sexual all over again. I had my room mates to blame.
Then, I thought about Noah. He was absolutely beautiful. Then, at least. I'd never be able to forget such a distinct face. He had glowing blue orbs which lit up in the sunlight, making them look almost white. He had a sharp jaw, with high cheekbones where his facial tattoo sat. It was the word 'paramour'. It was the polar opposite of him in many ways one at the end of the day.
But he seemed so good. Before the stress, the codeine, the underground dealership, before it all. He warned me. To this day, I still haven't heard from him. The last message I had about him was from another person and it mentioned he'd been let out of the slammer.
Tears threatened to fall the more I thought about him. The good things, of course. It all ended once I heard my door creak slightly. Nobody was there. Another side effect of Noah again? Everybody, people who weren't LDS members, had tried to convince me that there would be side effects, but they would always be hallucinations.
Like the hooded person I saw in the café?
I heard my door close again. This time, I saw a figure standing near it, resting against the wall. The moonlight from outside, thanks to my raised curtains, illuminated it so I could finally see a bit better. He seemed quite young, with soft facial features. Once he realized I was able to see him clearly, he pulled down his hood. He had sets of black, steel rings on one of his thumbs but finger tats on each. His eyes sparked with green, then settled as a dark brown, almost black.
He moved closer, and I looked down and noticed how perfect his frame was. Not too skinny, but slim. He continued to step closer and closer while I instinctively moved backward. He was even at the point of climbing onto my bed, until he put his hands on me. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. He pushed me, forcefully, making me hit my back on the bed hard. Tears welled up in my eyes, but whoever this was didn't seem to care.
He looked at me, his irises searching every nook and cranny of my face. Everything was silent- I could only hear the sound of my own heart beating violently in my chest, possibly even hitting my ribcage.
"You're not Brooklyn," His hands still rested on my shoulders and I noticed the absolutely inappropriate position I was in.
His two legs were open -he was still kneeling- while he held me in a tight grasp. He was so close our noses were nearly touching and I only then realized I was wearing.
My plain white tee with my lacy pyjama shorts that made sure my cheeky knickers were showing!
I tried my best to push him away, but to no avail. There was no use anyway. He wasn't even looking at me like that.
"BROOKLYN!" He yelled, as he was suddenly on the ground again, this time with his hood gone, exposing his black t-shirt with a stripy long sleeve underneath. His hands were in fists by his side, his head bowed low as he kicked my bin with a huge amount of force. It hit the wall but made no sound. Amazing.
His head was still low, but he was breathing heavily with anger showing through his shaking fists. Meanwhile, I was still seated watching a possible twenty-year-old have a tantrum over someone named Brooklyn.
In a flash he turned back to me but he had a weird expression. Without warning, he leaned forward once more and looked me in the eye, his orbs a sparkling green again.
