HIGH

Chapter 20 Awkward

brvdfordmalik.tumblr.com******

I want to get addicted to you*****

"And you're submissive."

Those three words were enough to create chills down my back and send my head spinning with all sorts of thoughts. I am not submissive.

I was scared.

I was scared completely to the point where I didn't move anymore. The possibilities of punishment for me not listening to him were endless. Nor was it something I'd ever want to find out about. He had kissed me first so it's not like I had provoked him.

Then again, it wasn't bad.

He had made it slow and enjoyable on some degree for the both of us. He was slow and delicate at the beginning and- holy fuck.

Stop.

Stopstopstopstopstop.

I'm delusional.

I am going insane.

Guilt and disgust were feelings I couldn't shake while tossing and turning under the covers. We had fallen asleep in an entangled jumble of limbs and shallow breathing. I was sore as hell and defeat was beginning to become a new kind of pain.

I had given up so easily. There was no fight, no struggle. He had kissed me and I had kissed back. And it was true that every little thing he had done, every single touch had some sort of effect on me. One simple brush of his finger was enough to send me over completely. None of this was intimate.

It was rehearsed.

He was practiced, obviously. Those small touches and tiny caresses were all moves he had now recycled onto me.

All I could think about was the awkward tension that would soon follow when we saw one another in the morning. And as I've mentioned before, I'm an awkward person to begin with. Having to deal with Zayn before was hell but now it's bound to be worse. I can only imagine the power he must be feeling over me. He had me now- he had something over me. Sure, he had started it but I went right along with him. We both had.

It wasn't intimate. That meant nothing to me on an emotional level. In fact, the only thing left to say is I don't want it to happen again.

All of these thoughts kept eating away at me making it impossible to sleep. His hand was draped over my stomach in a protective manner, keeping my close to his chest. The rise and fall of his chest against my back made my skin itch uncomfortably. This wasn't normal. Even for him. This wasn't a typical situation for him. I can guarantee he doesn't even sleep in the same bed as the girls he brings back home.

***

A small pat on the head was how I was woken up. His side of the bed was made, pillows and all. He looked down at me with arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He was dressed in all black with his hair perfectly messy.

"Get up." He said softly.

I sat up, wrapping the sheets around me to cover myself, and blinked a few times trying to wake myself up a bit more. Images and recollection of last night hit me hard. The same horrible feelings were coming back.

"Why aren't you showering?"

"I did. You're up late."

The clock read 9:07.

"You're expected to wake up with me and have breakfast. You did neither of these things."

I opened my mouth to protest but he cut me off.

"I'm not waking you up. You're supposed to get up on your own. I shouldn't be responsible for helping you do one small task."

His hands were curved into fists that hung at his sides.