"I did not have sexual relations with that woman."
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The first time Don Whittaker heard those infamous words was on January 26th, 1998, when then president Bill Clinton went on national television to deliver his verbal rejection of the notion that a...
Warning: Explicit Content Sail high folks, I'll see yall tomorrow lol I'm going the hell to bed Enjoy, lovelies! xoxo
Carson
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I didn't know how I found myself here.
First I was trying to get through the gym that was quickly filling with fog and already complicated to move through without fucking night vision goggles. Next thing I know, the gym speakers are being blasted by creepy music, and Don wasn't behind me anymore.
What the fuck?
I could sworn I heard Don call my name right as the music cut in, so I tried to use whatever the hell direction that came from, to determine where the hell he went. It felt like I was in a sea of fog now, retracing the steps I had gone to see if maybe he had just stopped following me?
I had wandered for another minute or two before I swore I heard my name over the music, so I went that way, to the right of me. As the fog cleared some closer to the walls, that was when I spotted him, but he was leaning up again the wall rigid, his hands holding his head tight like he was having the worse migraine of anyone's life.
My pace quickened immediately.
"Shit! Are you okay!" I tried to yell over the music, watching as Don slowly looked up at me. His face was tight, but it was the way he was holding his head. I noticed his heavier breathes now too.
Too loud, he mouthed to me, and I drew even closer, putting just a foot or two between us. I then did the only thing I could think of in this insane moment. I brought my hands up to his ears and cupped them, hopefully cutting out the truthfully head pounding music.
Better? I mouthed back, to which he slowly nodded, his hands slowly removing themselves from his head. I noticed he was applying pressure there before, and a lot of it, but his face was only tight. It showed very little emotion, contrasting what pain he looked to be in.
But then he did something fully unexpected, with one of those now free hands of his, he reached forward, bunching up a bit of my shirt's material in his hand before bringing me closer. It was safe to say I didn't know what the fuck was going on anymore. What I did know was that Don wasn't doing okay. I thought the noise was just loud, but it was something more.
The fog, he mouthed, my eyes dropping to his lips again briefly to read them.
I kept my eyes on him after, actively canceling the noise with my hands, but now it seemed the fog was a problem too... I think? I didn't know how, but regardless, I took another small step closer.
This was now the closest we had been since the range, then near the elevator, but all I felt was concerned. His face was stoic but his eyes... He looked absolutely terrified.
