The Bad Boy Made Me Do It

✥A·fraid✥

a·fraid
adjective

feeling fear or anxiety; frightened.

✥Chapter Two✥

I awoke to a major headache, a drum solo seeming to be taking place in my head. I groaned, going to roll to the side when a heavy weight on my stomach prevented me from doing so. My eyes opened, and the sight that greeted me wasn't pleasant.

I was in a white room, a large window/wall in front of me, viewing over what could only be the north side of the city. My heart started to beat rapidly, and I looked down to see that the weight did in fact belong to a tattooed covered arm.

I jerked upright, flinging myself from the bed. My breathing was rapid enough to where I felt faint and the brightness of the white walls and relentless sunlight did its job and confused me more. I couldn't see straight, the glare of the light clashing with my hangover and the fact that I didn't know where I was.

I took steps backwards, hysterically trying to escape whatever shit I had gotten myself into. The man in the bed, who was shirtless, I might add, was awake now, and his piercing grey eyes were pointed at me.

"Mornin' sunshine." He grumbled tiredly, rubbing his face in a somehow sexy way.

"Where the hell am I?" I half-yelled, hitting a wall. The man flinched at my noise, burying his face in his pillow.

Okay, so that was an answer.

I looked around, noticing that darker shades of light were starting to seep back into my vision. Why was everything in this room so damn white? I found the door to my right, crossing to it on unsteady steps. My stomach hurt like a bitch, and I felt that if I stepped too fast I would hurl. My unsteady steps however could only be explained by the after effects of drinking over my limits way too fast.

I reached the door, grabbing the handle with both hands and twisting it. It twisted, but didn't budge open a centimeter. I yanked harder against it, tears starting to form until finally I was banging against the white wood.

"Hey!" I jumped, turning back to the man. He looked familiar, and I wondered if I knew his name.

Something like Zeb or Wayne or something.

"Will you stop that please? Some of us have been awake since six in the morning and plan on sleeping at least an hour." He muttered a little lower this time. "Now you can sit around until then or come back to bed and pass the time sleeping." He said, and I could already hear him falling back asleep.

He said something incoherent, slurred by his now sleeping form, and I stood there by the door.

I walked steadily to the bed, lying back down on its plush mattress. I curled into a ball, making sure I was on the very edge, ready to bolt and run if I had too.

Where would you even bolt too you moron?

Out the window, it's better than being raped.

I found myself falling into a light sleep; even the slightest of movements woke me, like an increase of breathing from the man, or maybe a bird outside fluttered to close to the window. I was just falling back into a doze when something wrapped around me, pulling me further into the bed until I hit something warm and bare. Skin.

I bit my lip, trying not to scream or shout as the man Wayne or Zeb or something spooned me from behind, his hand sliding up my stomach until he was cupping my boob.

I don't know if it was the hangover, or maybe I was just completely out of it, but I didn't have the energy to bat him away, or scream bloody Mary and pop both of our ear-drums. Eventually I fell asleep though, even if it was dreamless and cold slumber.