Jasmin has moved from Miami to Chicago, which is an amazing, but dangerous place.
She's innocent, but definitely knows her worth.
Jasmin has been through many ups and downs when she moved. She learned the difference between real friends and fake fri...
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Jasmin
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"Jesus Christ." I groan into my pillow. I haven't even opened my eyes, and the headache pounding my head is going at full force. It feels like my eyes are being stabbed with the way they're throbbing right now. Is this even normal? I feel like crying, but even that would hurt.
I turn onto my back, my eyes still squeezed shut. My eyes furrow slightly when the light doesn't hit my eyelids. Is it still dark outside? I peek an eye open, scanning my room through the pain. Completely forgetting the standards I'm in, I jump up off the bed, immediately getting dizzy but I ignore it, leaning my hand onto the bedside table.
Why the hell am I in Antonio's room. Panic starts to settle in me when I see I'm only in my ethikas, and a large t-shirt that's stops at my thighs. Which is definitely not mine. I move my eyes frantically around the room. The dark curtains cover the sunlight threatening to pour in through the window, my heels are in two different areas of the room, and my clothes are folded on the ottoman.
Wasn't he gone for like two weeks? I saw him when I had walked into the house, but that all I can remember.
I look down, but lift it back up when my head feels heavy. Shoot. I sit back down on the bed slowly, placing my hands behind me and leaning on them. Shutting my eyes. Lord help me. You didn't ask for his help when you were drinking all that alcohol like it's holy water.
My eyes squeeze tighter, but that makes the pain worse. He didn't do anything to me. Did he? I whine out loud, all this thinking this early in the morning is making my head hurt more than a hangover is supposed to. The bathroom door opens, and he steps out, a towel wrapped lowly around his waist, and water droplets trailing down his abs. Exposing his tattooed chest.
I follow one as it drops from his wet hair, gliding down his hard abs and down his v-line. It disappeared after, the towel soaking it up. That made my head throb more.
My eyes move up to his at the same time he looks up from the floor, still applying a product into his hair. "Sleeping beauty is finally awake." He says, his voice filled with something I couldn't place my finger on, and annoyance. He leans against the doorframe, staring at me from the other side of the room. His gaze doesn't falter, and the intensity of it suddenly making me shiver.
His eyes move down my clothed figure painfully slow, making it seem like the seconds passing by stretched longer. I look away, looking for a way to ask my question without making it weird.
Looking back to him, I see him typing in his phone, his muscular and tatted arm stretched up, still running his hand through his hair. "Did we do anything?" I'm able to get out while his unnerving gaze isn't focused on me. His fingers pause on the screen, and he lifts his head slowly, scanning every inch of my face, seeing I'm serious.
