Harry
I wake in the morning to a slight headache, still in bed with Sam. Her eyes are shut and there's cum crusted on her mouth and tits, my used condom in her hand. My face contorts in disgust as I get out of bed, pulling my pants and shirt on and making my way to a bathroom to shower.
When I walk in the bathroom down the hall, there's a girl sleeping with her face on the toilet seat, vomit dried on her mouth and the toilet seat. I nudge her with my foot and her eyes flutter open, glossy as she looks up at me, confused.
"I need to shower, and you need to leave," I say bluntly, not looking at her as I start the water. "Wipe your vomit off the seat and get out, please."
She does as I say, and once she stumbles out of the bathroom I shut and lock the door. I strip slowly out of my clothes and step into the shower, letting the scalding water wash over my skin and cleanse me of last night's activities. I scrub my skin with a washcloth, making sure to wash my dick twice, before stepping out and toweling myself off. I gather my clothes off of the bathroom floor and make my way to my bedroom, a towel around my waist.
When I get there, I dig my keys out of my pants pocket and unlock the door, stepping inside and throwing my clothes on the floor, shutting the door behind me. I look at the clock resting on my bookshelf, only half past seven, so I still have thirty minutes before I should be in class.
I find some clean boxers, a somewhat clean pair of black skinny jeans and a kind of clean black shirt. I throw them on, and decide to head to school early just for the hell of it; grabbing my keys, I lock my door and make my way downstairs and out of the frat house and to my car.
Leah
I wake to my alarm at four am, rolling over to shut it off. I sit up, tossing off the blanket, and stretch before standing up. I walk over to my dresser, picking out a lacy black bra and matching knickers, a white three quarter sleeve blouse, and a black knee-length pencil skirt, then heading to the bathroom to shower.
I turn on the hot water, stripping as I wait for it to warm up. I look at my body in the mirror, poking the fat on my stomach and shrugging before pulling up the knob to turn on the shower and stepping in.
I let the scalding water run over me for a few minutes before grabbing my loofa and scrubbing my skin pink. I imagine all my worries and stress about the day ahead running down the drain with the soap, letting the jet shower stream massage the tension from my shoulders and neck, then begin to wash my hair. The familiar scent of vanilla and coconut is soothing, reminding me of years passed and how far I've come, and it helps calm me even further.
I step out of the shower, the cold air raising goosebumps on my arms as I towel off. I again study my body in the mirror, remembering the words my mother said so many times: You need to stop eating so much, you're getting fat. The words sting, and I can't help but feel as though she's right, especially when I pinch the skin on my stomach, thighs, and arms.
I shake off my insecurities and get dressed, brushing and pulling my hair up into a tight bun before beginning work on my makeup. I rub foundation on, following with light concealer, then swipe a thin layer of mascara on my eyelashes and nude lipstick on my lips.
I walk back to my bedroom and grab a pair of no-show socks from my suitcase, slipping them on along with a pair of black flats. I sling my duffel bag over my shoulder along with my cross-body bag, pick up my two suitcases, and make my way to the living room.
"Mother," I call. "I'm ready."
"Put your things in the trunk and grab some coffee," She calls back from the kitchen. "Then we have to leave if we want to make it on time."
"Yes, mother," I sigh. My stomach gurgles but I ignore it, heading out the door to the car. The air is warm with a pleasant chill on the breeze, and I relax. Today isn't going to be so bad.
I set my suitcases on the ground and pop the trunk open, then stuff the suitcases and duffel inside. I close the hatch and return inside, making my way into the kitchen where my mother is sitting at the table, reading something on her phone. She doesn't look up at me as I pass behind her to the coffee pot, but I can feel her eyes on me as I add cream and sugar to my coffee in a to-go cup.
"You really shouldn't consume so much sugar," She says. "You're gaining weight as it is, you don't need to gain more."
"It'll be fine, mother," I say, rolling my eyes and joining her at the table. She sighs and returns her eyes to her phone, and I'm sipping my coffee when there's a knock on the door.
I get up to answer it, and I'm greeted by Tyler, hugging me good morning.
"Hey," I say.
"Hey," He replies. "How are you?"
"Just a little bit nervous, but I'll be fine" I answer.
"You look great," He says with a smile.
I return his smile, "So do you." He's wearing a cerulean blue cardigan over a pale blue-grey button down, khakis, and loafers, and his dark hair is parted neatly and gelled into place.
"Let's go," My mother says from behind me.
"Okay," Tyler and I reply at the same time. We step outside into the cool morning, the sky still dark, and I see Tyler's mother by her car. Tyler and I walk to the end of the sidewalk and hug each other goodbye, and I breathe in his scent, not wanting to let him go.
I have to, though, and I pull away. "I love you, Tyler," I say.
"I love you, too, Leah," He replies, leaning down to give me a kiss. I happily return it, and all too soon the moment is over, we're packed into our separate cars, and heading opposite ways to two different colleges.
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YOU ARE READING
Breathe (h.s.)
Romance~ DO NOT STEAL MY PLOT OR IDEAS PLEASE AND THANK YOU ~ Leah Connors is an eighteen year old girl with obsessive compulsive disorder. She comes from a very well-off family with old money, highly ranked on the social scale. Everything has to be in ord...