Corruption

Chapter 14

My body freezes before it shuts down completely. There's a part of me that's aware Lip still has his mouth on mine, but the rest of me is completely disassociated. Blue isn't the right word to describe my state of mind, but it's exactly how I'm feeling. Cold and boundless like the deepest depths of the ocean, yet searing hot like the most oxygenated part of a flame. I want it to stop but at the same time I feel my grip on the back of Lip's neck tighten, forcing him in place. This time, it's me who's stealing his breath away - every last ounce. It's crazed and euphoric and wrong and Lip is trying to push me away but he's weaker than me for once. I hear the glass of his windows shatter around us as wind seems to pick up around our face, tangling my hair to his.

Lip's hand against my hips give up on pushing me away and instead pulls me closer to him, my body jolting at the impact. His hands are hot, and burning my skin. I hear screams and I smell fire. I open my eyes and they sting with the air around us. It's too bright for me to see but I can't seem to shut them. Lip gasps around my mouth and my lips move in sync, forcing this connection I can't seem to stop.

He manages to break free, his breathing ragged and his heart beating so fast I can feel it on my skin through our clothing. "Fiona," he drags breathlessly. My eyes slip closed but the iciness holding my body still licks away in the dwindling of the fire between us. I go limp against him, my head lolling onto his shoulder. "Fuck," he mumbles and louder he calls my name again. His voice finds its way into an echo until it's static, until it's a mumble that seeps effortlessly into an empty void.

I know he's right beside me but I can't feel him anymore. My body feels weightless and heavy at once; I'm falling and floating and all I see is an awkward array of lights flashing past my eyes.

Ceiling lights. I'm lying on a bed. Silence still surrounds me but as I twist my head from left to right I see faces peering down at me. Blue scrubs, masks over mouth, a muffles, "You're doing great sweetie, don't you worry!" She's excited. She sounds like my mother. "Just hold him in for a little longer, we're almost to the room," she begs and promises. I frown, my hands tightening its hold on something - no, someone.

"Fuck, Fi," he mumbles, I gasp, turning from my mother to face a pair of brown eyes, "You're killing my fingers, baby." Blood pours from his fingers onto my knuckles. I close my eyes, scared out of my fucking mind. My mouth opens but all the noise and commotion surrounding me is deafened by my scream.

I gasp like I was trapped under water; my head pounding as my eyes snap open and my body shoots forward. Florescent lights seem yellow and dull now. I'm on the floor, I must have fallen or passed out. I frown at the scent that suddenly invades my nose - piss and vomit. I retch, as I feel against the walls sticky and grimy. I stand on shaky legs and the pounding n my head suddenly syncs up with an intense baseline beyond the doors before me.

There's cuts and bruises along my arms as I walk towards the sink. Stalls behind me are shut but no feet seem to peak out from beneath the doors. The mirrors are foggy and laced with lipstick stains and lewd vandalism. I hardly recognize myself beyond the haze. I glance down at the sinks, twisting the faucet on. The water is cold beneath my fingers, but not unbearable.

I bring my hands to my face, wiping back my stray hair with the cool water. Hands shoot up from behind, pulling me down. I scream but it's muffled, and the dim lights that were surrounding me are slowly encased by darkness, sucking me in. I struggle against my captor, my body aching where it touches, I can hardly make out the dark oil slicked hands raking up my body, slowly coming around my neck and hooking on to the roof of my mouth like it's trying to rip me apart and suffocate me at once.

"So pretty," it whispers into my ears. I can't make out the voice but I know it sounds so familiar. I cry and let out a muffled sob when the hands grow from harsh grips to soft caresses. "Wake up, Fiona," a different voice tells me.