"You know the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you, right?" He paused, and let out a breathy laugh "Of course you don't, but you should. That's the last thing I want".
I had almost believed him in the moment,
his twenty years to my sixteen seemed less than intimidating, but yet again I had allowed myself to enter a situation in which I had no power and no control. And what other outcome was to be expected? He took advantage of me, the bruises he left telling the story in the days after, fading from harsh purple to a sickly yellow.
