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"Lowen, babe." A rasp echoed throughout the room. Our single beds were so close together that it felt like a double. I stilled, and shut my eyes, pretending I'm asleep.
"I know you can hear me, baby."

A springing noise left the cheap mattress as he sat up. Please don't. Please don't. Please-
A hand brushed the hair off my face. "Stop faking it, you bitch. I know you're awake."

The next movement in the room was the warm cover being ripped from my body. I couldn't hold myself anymore. My eyes cracked open in the dark, and the faint glow from outside the window exposed me.

"I have a problem that only you can fix." His heavy breathing on my neck could be felt all over my skin. "You gonna help me?"

Sometimes you just know. It's a sense I've grown accustomed too. The hand on a thigh. The whispers on a neck. The 'compliments', and the late night whispers. The rhetorical question of - "Will you help me?"

Something tells me I have no choice.
Something is correct.

The feel of his hands pulling down my sleep shorts. The bulge he's pressing into me with all his weight. The tight grip his fingertips have on my thighs.

Stay still, I told myself. This is happening again. Prepare yourself.

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