Thirteen days; it had been thirteen days since I'd last seen Eros.
It'd been robotic, going to school, returning home and lying in bed till the next day came. Going to school was a special kind of torture, having to deal with Ethan in homeroom, the badgering looks.
Leo was the only constant in all of this.
I'd be lying if some part of me didn't miss him. That need to connect with someone on a deeper level- I was craving it more than ever. I'd known for so little time and I was already dependent on him.
I'm pathetic.
I was tired of being alone, I was tired of pretending that I was okay.
So I decided to go to Carter Giligan's rager. Dressed in a dress that could just brushed the middle of my thighs, and a face of makeup, I sat at the bar, downing drink after drink. The burn of vodka left a path of bitterness in my throat, a sour taste on my tongue. Everyone kept cheering me on, excited to see how much more Tessa could take. It was a game that I played well.
Soon the effects of drinking a mile a minute went straight to my bladder and gag reflex. I struggled to find my way to a bathroom, and stumbled into one, not bothering to close the door.
Every shot of misery I'd taken ended up in the toilet, reminding me of the hollowness that pulsed in my chest.
Being alone is your best option. No one can hurt you when you're alone Tessa.
That voice in my head kept hissing these words and I found myself believing them.
Gathering what little energy I had left, I pushed myself off the ground and left the bathroom. I nearly tripped on the way out, and was steadied by a pair of arms.
I looked up, my eyes adjusting to the image of the guy holding me by my waist, hooded eyes staring at me. Hooded, drunk, possibly drug-haze eyes.
"Um thanks, you can let go of me now," I managed to say evenly even though another wave of nausea washes over me. I politely back away out of his grip.
"Why don't I keep you company, you look upset," he murmured, his breath heavy against the shell of my ear.
"No, I'm okay," I protested, wanting nothing more than to just lay in my bed and sleep. How would I even get home?
His hands were traveling my body sneakily, and I was just too far gone to stop him. I wanted to fight his groping touch, kick him in the balls, and walk away. "I can make you feel better."
"Seriously, get the fuck off me, asshole."
He mumbled something, his alcoholic breath fanning over my face. It was absolutely disgusting, testing my gag reflex.
"If I wasn't so drunk, I'd cut your dick off, tape it to your forehead and you'd be a limp dick unicorn," I stalled, words simply spilling out of my mouth in my fearful daze.
"That's not very nice," he rumbled out. He was swaying not even able to stand straight.
"Fuck off."
Another voice joins in, a voice I'd never expected to hear.
"Hey, shithead- why don't you try to get with a girl who's actually interested in you?"
•
i should be asleep rn but fuck sleep
sleep is for the weak
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his angel (#1)
Fantasihe'll catch her before she falls. (inspired by psyche and eros) • Not a moment later did a thump resonate through my room; and instead of light, a foreign presence filled the room. Someone was in my room. And I was going to die tonight. But I neve...
