𝙋𝙐𝙍𝙂𝙀 𝙈𝙔 𝙐𝙍𝙂𝙀𝙎

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CHAPTER FIVE{   Purge My Urges   }***

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CHAPTER FIVE
{   Purge My Urges   }
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YOUR CHEEKS ARE ON FIRE and you feel like you might throw up, which is why you stride over to the bar and wave at the bartender for another drink. You motion that you want a shot—he already knows what kind.

Your heart is racing and not in a good way. Not in the same way that it was in the bathroom.

Your intestines are twisting with shame. The sharp pang of embarrassment cuts through you, even though logically you know there's nothing wrong with your feelings. But there is.

There's something wrong with you.

"What are you doing here?" You grumble.

Emily peers over at you, amused. When she first entered the bar to come looking for you, she was overwhelmed with worry, concern. While some of that still lingers, she wants to know what she just walked in on. She wants to take this as a chance to get closer with you—she wants you to confide in her. To feel comfortable with her.

Emily files into the barstool beside you. You smile at the bartender as he sets your shot glass down in front of you, then ask for another vodka tonic. Jesus, Emily thinks. You waste no time in knocking the shot back, the liquid burning your throat on the way down. You don't screw your face, instead, you face Emily.

"Who was that girl?" She smiles.

You keep a straight face, shrugging. It's only now that you feel how drunk you really are. You're not tipsy, you're drunk, and that last shot hasn't even kicked in yet. You're nearly positive that you'll be slurring your words when you answer her.

You peer over your shoulder at the woman. "I think her name is Avery."

You don't even know her name? A hint of confusion taints Emily's entertained expression.

It takes everything in you to make eye contact with her, and when you do, she realizes that you're not amused like she is—you're ashamed. There's a dark look in your eyes. It's an amalgamation of embarrassment, uncertainty, and fear, and your jaw twitches as you keep a stone gaze on Emily. Your hands are trembling—barely, but still.

From what she heard your father say in that hospital room, Emily knows self-hatred surrounding your sexuality has been ingrained deep inside of you. A lifetime of hiding, of fearing judgement. Aside from societal norms, you've always had the internalized belief that your sexuality is something that needs to be hidden away at all costs. Even once you moved out, you never quite grew out of that belief.

𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 ~ 𝐂.𝐌.Where stories live. Discover now