𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓; pedro pascal

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

tw: self mutilation/self harm, burning, smut, drinking

It was around 6pm, and Amelia was sitting on her hotel bed, blindly scrolling on her phone. She was burnt out from the day of shopping she had and seeing all of the couples at the Eiffel Tower. Paris is the city of love, after all. Her feed was similar, videos and images of couples being cute together and sharing special moments haunted her. She turned her phone off and laid it beside her. Staring blankly at the ceiling, she felt herself slowly slipping into another episode. Build ups like this usually lead to a kind of manic depressive episode. Amelia's mindset shifted to nihilistic and impulsive. She got up, with a newfound motivation, and dug through her purse to find her lighter. Her deranged eyes stared big at the lighter as she pressed firmly on the spark wheel and flicked down, a small flame emerging from the black lighter. She tossed the lighter on the bed and unzipped her jeans. She pulled them off and threw them on the floor. She gazed at her bare thigh, contemplating on whether she should do this or not. It's been almost 7 months since she last did it, but she felt hopeless. She needed to feel physical pain to ease the stress from the battles she endures everyday against her brain. She grabbed the lighter and ignited it, slowly letting the flame dance closer and closer to her beautiful tanned skin. Then the pain came. Her open hand forged into a fist. Her teeth grinding against each other. Tears filling her eyes, from the pain of relapsing and the burning sensation coming from her thigh. She let out an airy groan and bit her tongue. Tears spilled from her lash line. She held the flame for as long as possible. Her hand began to shake and she dropped the lighter. Her breaths came shaky as she stared in horror at the discolored mark that was left on her body. Burnt skin shriveled up and peeled off, she ripped it off, leaving a crater in her skin from the top two layers being destroyed and melted off. She rapidly blinked and shook, her hands fumbling around her thigh, being careful not to touch it. Her eyebrows furrowed as she felt deep regret.

Redemption. She needed redemption against herself. She needed to prove to herself that she could be loved. She got up and looked through her luggage for her dress. She pulls out a small velvet, emerald green dress with small straps. The dress was tiny, but enough to cover the mark on her thigh. She grabbed her pushiest push-up bra to wear with the dress. She quickly changed into the dress, and put on some extra makeup, changing her natural makeup look into something a little more promiscuous. She put on her favorite pair of heels and made her way down to the bar.

"Well hello there, pretty lady! What can I get for you?" The bartender said. "Two shots of vodka and a lime, please." She said, exhausted. "I'll have that right out for you."
"You alright there, sugar?" The man next to her said. Annoyed, she turned to him, but then was paralyzed with fear. It was Beau. His daunting eyes stared into hers. Her tired eyes became wide, as she remembered what she was wearing. His mouth was slightly open, in a smirk, as he slyly looked her up and down. "That's quite the outfit you've got on there, almost looks like you're begging for something." Amelia looked down at her body, thinking impure thoughts as to what he implied, but with him on the other end. She was speechless. "It's alright, I'm not gonna tell your dad or anything. You're an adult'" he said, "but I would appreciate it if you had a drink with me." Maybe it was the thrill of relapsing clouding her thought process, or the mere fact that someone wanted to drink with her, but she agreed.

"Oh, my God!" Amelia laughed, slapping her hand on the bar table, "I can't believe he did that! And you just walked in on him chilling on his office eating 5 chilli-hotdogs!" Amelia was dying laughing, Beau just told her the story of when Tim was alone at the office, drunk. "I know, I know. It was even funnier from our perspective because he's our boss." Beau chuckled, sipping his beer. "Please, tell me more." Amelia begged. She was wasted, and was actually enjoying having Beau in her presence. "Alright, alright. But we have to be alone for this one, I don't want anyone to hear." He says, notioning to the bartender for the bill. "Ok, let's go to the corner." she says, drunkenly pointing to the corner of the bar. Beau pays and gets up. "No, we need to go your hotel room." He says slyly. "Ohhhhh. Okayyyy.." Amelia slurs. She stans up and trips on her feet, leaning into Beau. "Okay, looks like I'm the designated driver." Beau says, putting his arm around Amelia and leading her out of the bar.