All Too Well - Erik Menendez

Bruises & Blackmails. [18+]

Beverly Hills. CA. 1988.

Eriks POV:

As my eyes open, I'm hit entirely with grogginess. My vision betraying me, demanding moisture brought to restore it. I made a decision last night; one that I'm sure will end up being a massive mistake. But it's one I felt I needed to make.

I slept in my car.

I couldn't bring myself to enter that house, because I knew exactly what was waiting for me, or perhaps; who was waiting for me.

I will be back tonight and you can do whatever you want.

My own words spin around my brain, they mock me. I should've known my consequences for yesterday, I should've known how those words were a hell to me; paradise to him. I should've known how disobeying him originally and going on that date would be a crime in need of punishment - according to him. His sadistic, senseless type of punishment.

The date. Yesterday. My body relaxes briefly before remembering.

Her mouth. Her tongue. On my neck, in my mouth. Her curves pushed against my body so harshly. That soft creamy skin under my fingers. Her hand rubbing against me, harshly, ruthlessly.

It's an erotic paradise of swollen lips and desperate fingers and insatiable cravings; so many cravings. The flashbacks make my body wake up just from the imagery.

I hadn't imagined I'd be able to do something like that after everything. I mean, I didn't panic, I didn't feel bad. So many times with Craig, even the moments where I initiated us kissing, I juggled feelings of anxiety, confusion and discomfort in the moment. However there was none of that with Whisper. She's different from anything I've ever known.

Her hand is something completely different than my fathers. Contrary to what I previously believed, perhaps I can actually have a girlfriend regardless of what my father does or doesn't do. Because I do. I do now have a girlfriend and that's okay.

I shift my body upright, the previous images evidently taking their effect as my pants feel excruciatingly tight.

I switch the engine on and register the time as 6:54. Fuck, I can't be late.

The drive is a mixture of me attempting to focus on the road, and attempting to change my outfit with the plethora of clothes stationed in the back of my car. I don't have the choice but to settle with a quarter-zip sweatshirt and tennis shorts, but it's rather fitting considering I have practice on the team later. I'll shower at school, because god knows I won't be going home. I'll run from my consequences for as long as I can.

Upon me arriving at her front door, it's an understatement to say I'm filled with nerve-wracking butterflies as it opens, she looks beautiful. Jeans and a checkerboard sweater, something that would look simply on others; something that looks like a revelation on her.

"You ready?" I hold my hand out to her. She grabs it with a wide smile and the butterflies scatter all around my body.

I note to reach the car door before her, opening it like I did yesterday, I know she likes it from the smile she gives me.

"Did you sleep well?" I inquiry as our journey starts.

"I did. I had a dream about us actually." Mischief yet shyness, her voice is full of it.

"Really? What about?"

"Can't tell you."

I look over to her, and watch as she glances out the window, a wide smirk plastered all across her face. How can one person be so beautiful.