"𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮."
.✧.
"Where are you going, lisichka?" His voice, a gravelly murmur, sent chills down my spine as I turned to face...
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I don't really care how bad it hurts, When you broke me first!!
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My head throbbed intensely as I struggled to open my eyes. I placed my right hand against my forehead, feeling the relentless pulsing beneath my palm. My senses were dulled, my mind foggy, and the pounding in my head made it hard to focus.
"Ahhh!" A pained gasp escaped my lips as the morning light from the balcony pierced my eyes, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything around me.
After several attempts, I finally managed to flutter my eyes open. It took a few moments for the haze to clear enough for me to take in my surroundings.
As I glanced around, my hand instinctively moved to my neck, which ached, probably from sleeping in an awkward position. Pushing aside the comforter that barely covered half of me, I stood up, wobbling as my legs struggled to steady me.
Last night's memories were muddled, bits and pieces flickering at the back of my mind. I remembered sneaking out of the mansion with Kashish, going to the club, and meeting her friends. To my surprise, they were welcoming and friendly. I half-expected them to ignore me since I was a total stranger, but the conversation flowed naturally.
And Kashish—she'd introduced me as her friend, not her adoptive sister. I was relieved; I wasn't ready to deal with anyone's reactions about my adoption.
The club felt overwhelming at first, filled with beautiful girls in designer dresses. Mine was expensive too, though far more revealing than anything I'd ever worn. Thankfully, no one made me feel out of place.
Thinking back, the only awkward part had been the presence of Kashish's guy friends. She'd told me it was going to be a girls' night, but clearly, that wasn't the case. Maybe she figured I wouldn't come if I knew there would be guys. But honestly, they'd been nothing but respectful; not a single one made me feel uncomfortable.
I also remembered the drinks—three shots, just enough to make me fuzzy. I giggled, recalling how I'd barely made it past those three.
My hand went up to my scalp, pressing down in a vain attempt to ease the headache and frustration. I couldn't remember anything beyond those drinks.
