SORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRY.
I am SO SORRRRY.
This chapter is really short, but there will be another one out today.
I will write an abundance of stories to make up for not writing in forever!!!!
but for now...here you go.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Everything seemed so clear for that moment, then it becomes very blurry, very fast. I heard a thunk and felt something hard hit the back of my head, but no pain. Then i faintly heard a scream and a mixture of colors in front of me. I pass out to the smell of a familiar aroma.
I jerked up. I needed to throw up, now. Ughhhhh. I can't make it to my bathroom. I saw a flashing light through the window of my room. Probably a car. Ughh. I turned to the side of my bed to start retching, but suddenly I felt someone grab me and shove a trash can in front of my face. I throw up as they hold my head. They wipe my face off. I turn to retch again. They hold my head. Again, they wipe of my face. I pass out.
Sunlight streams through the window of my room and I get up, blinking to clear my vision. I still feel sick, but better. I'm wearing a really long t-shirt. My clothes from last night are lying in a heap in a corner of my room. I look up around my room. I see Ian slumped over on my butterfly chair near my window. Suddenly, the events of last night come crashing back to my memory. Party, dancing, leather jacket, Ian-Izzie...
I need to throw up again.
Ian stirs at the sound of me retching. He's holding my head in an instance. I love how I feel when he touches me. Magical sparks flow up and down my body. He wipes my face clean. I look up at him.
"Hey"
He glances up at me.
"Hey," he says.
I can see in his expression, pain, hurt, desire, concern.
Why am I the way I am? I don't even know what's right or wrong. I start to think these thoughts, but then I stop. Right now there's nothing. There's just him, and me.
I crawl into his lap and put my arms around his neck. He looks surprised but slowly puts his arms around me. I rest my head on his shoulder, and slowly drift off to sleep.
A surprisingly conscious part of me analyzes the situation. Oh, what a sight. An extremely hungover girl wearing only an oversized t-shirt, her hair a mess, her face a mess, curled into a beautiful boys arms. Sunlight streams in on them. She doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve it at all.
she cheated on her boyfriend with him.
Then, she fell in love with him.
He loves her.
She tells him that she has a boyfriend.
He leaves.
She goes to a party.
she gets drunk.
She dances and has fun with her boyfriend.
He's there too.
Watching.
She passes out.
He carries her home.
Cleans her up.
Takes care of her.
She doesn't deserve it.
He deserves better.
But she loves him so much.
and he loves her too.
that's all that matters.
My thoughts fade into the background of our breathing and i fall into a dreamless sleep.
