Emerson Wilmore was an exemplary Ravenclaw student, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and an unyielding moral compass. However, things took a twisted and deviated turn in her life after her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, was murdered by L...
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Caution: NSFW scenes below
Emerson didn't sleep that night.
She laid in bed for hours, staring at the blue and silver canopy above her. Her body was restless, but her mind worse. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Mattheo's hands on her body, his lips against hers and the way he held her like he knew he owned her. Like he knew she would give in.
And, she did.
That was the worst part of it. She gave in, and now she couldn't stop thinking about it. He made her beg for him to touch her, and he smirked when she finally cracked. And she couldn't help herself from wanting for it to happen again and more.
"You're mine, Emie. You just don't know it yet."
Searing heat burned beneath her skin at the memory, frustration curling deep inside her. She wanted him so badly. Every second of it until her euphoria finally peaked. She shouldn't have let it happen. She shouldn't have kissed him back. She shouldn't have let him touch her. But even now, even after hours of trying to force the feeling away, her stomach still tightened at the thought of his touch.
It made her sick.
It made her furious.
It made her thrilled.
Emerson turned onto her side with a groan, gripping her pillow like it would somehow silence the memories playing on a loop in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to stop thinking about it. It was a mistake. A reckless, idiotic and humiliating mistake. She couldn't believe that she let herself do that.
Her first time being ever touched like that by anyone, and she gave that experience to fucking Mattheo of all people in the world. She was no better than any of the many girls he'd ever been with.
And now, she had to pretend it never happened.
By the time she finally dragged herself out of bed the next morning for the final day of the week, her limbs felt heavy. Her exhaustion was pressing down on her like a weight. She dressed herself in silence, leaving her hair naturally down past her shoulders for the first time in months. She couldn't be bothered with her usual styling because she couldn't pretend to look perfect when she wasn't.
Not when she let herself give in to the bad boy when she should've known better.
When she was ready for the day, she suddenly realised that Olivia's bed was empty.
