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CHAPTER FIVE TW: mentions of depression and depressive episodes!
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𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘔𝘜𝘊𝘏 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 than I expected. She lives in a penthouse on the top floor of her building. It's huge with the best views of the city, something I'd love to have.
Though her home is gorgeous I notice it doesn't have a home feel to it. Not furniture-wise- they have lots of that- I mean it feels empty. There are no photos up, and the kitchen and living room are spotless as if no one's used them. The house has a more neutral color palette and is plain, which makes it more depressing.
Who am I to judge though? I live in a small 2 bedroom with my dad who I barely interact with. At least she and her mother talk to one another.
"my mom is making dinner, it's chicken parmigiana and pot pie on the side, I hope that's okay."
Her voice quickly makes me snap out of the trance that I found myself in. I look at her sitting a few feet in front of me and nod.
"yea that's great, thanks." she sighs at my response and then we just are. Sitting in my spot her black one-seater as she sits on her spot on her bed. We make eye contact a couple of times but it always ends with us looking away.
I find it hard to keep eye contact with her because it makes me feel things I don't want to. Every time I look at her I feel my stomach start to twist and turn and my yearning for her gets much bigger.
She does this thing where she swipes her tongue over her teeth letting her tongue piercing hit them. She has a snake eye, I think it's called, but every time she does it the only thing I can imagine is how it would feel to have her tongue against my clit.
what the actual fuck is wrong with me.
she invites me into her home and the only thing I can think of is sex.
Long,
Sweaty,
Orgasmic
sex.
"do you want to walk about what going on? I'm no therapist but I'm a great listener and I don't judge." she shrugs, questioning more herself than me. It's cute honestly. I'm not exactly sure what I want to tell her.
For starters, I barely know her and would hate to confide in someone I would never see again. Or to confide in someone who would throw things back in my face at me. That's happened too many times for me to count.
I quickly internally decide to tell her, but not everything. "My dad and I are in an argument right now. My grades are slipping and I'm getting back into old habits. The days are getting shorter and I have no more motivation. He thinks I'm not trying to better myself, seeing as I don't really confide in Vicky."
