13 ➸ deranged

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Past: Lennon (17), Damon (18)

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Past: Lennon (17), Damon (18)

"Come on Len! It'll be good for you!" My sister begs, trying to drag me to some lame-ass party her boyfriend is throwing.

"No thanks."

"It wouldn't kill you to be more social."

"I think it would, actually," I murmur and she rolls her eyes.

"There's gonna be really cute guys there..." She smirks while wiggling her brows.

"Hmm let me think- no."

"Ugh! Come on!"

"Why do you care if I go to some stupid party?"

"Because it's honestly depressing seeing you lock yourself in your room and reading your life away...I mean come on Len, you don't even have one friend."

"That's not-" I pause mid-sentence when I realize she's right.

"It'll be fun Len, we'll dance and drink! Plus it's not like we have school tomorrow, we're on summer vacation! Don't you want to spend time with your big sis before she leaves for college?" She pouts and I almost laugh at her sad excuse of a pout.

"Fine."

"YES! YAY! I have the cutest dress for you- and don't worry, it's black."

Is it too late for me to change my mind?

She tosses the tiny thing at me and I throw on the skimpy dress that barely does a good job hiding all my...goods.

The dress hugs all my curves and stops mid-thigh.

I keep pulling it down but anytime I stand up straight, it scoots back up.

"Kill me," I mutter.

My head shoots up when I hear a creak by my door and my eyes nearly fall out when I realize it's Damon.

I didn't even know he was home...

My eyes scan his large frame, the tight black t-shirt doing an amazing job showing off his muscles and tattoos.

"Can I help you?" I ask.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" He asks, his eyes narrowing almost as if he were...angry.

"A dress, ever heard of one?"

"Change."

"Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Did I?"

"You're not gonna wear that piece of fabric around a bunch of drunk idiots."

"Then what am I supposed to wear, Dad?" I ask, folding my arms across my chest.

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