I Can't Sleep (Jeff the Killer fanfic)

Chapter 4: Why is This Happening to Me?

I splashed water over my face as I leaned on the bathroom sink.

What the hell just happened?

My breathing still hadn't gone down since he . . . Oh, shit! I can't even think about it without turning red. I splashed more water on my face.

I looked in the mirror and brushed my dark bangs out of my eyes. Then I saw something that I hadn't noticed before. Behind me, clothes were hanging on a small clothesline. I turned and found my pants among them. I pulled them off the clothesline and was about to put them on when I realized that they were wet.

He washed them? So that's the reason why we were half naked. Thank goodness.

"Hey," Jeff called from outside the door. "What are you doing in there?"

"It's none of your business," I told him, sliding my pants on and exiting the bathroom.

"Wearing wet pants isn't very comfortable," he told me. "It's chafing."

I turned around and glared at him. "Well, what do you suppose I wear? I don't have any other clothes here for obvious reasons, and I doubt you'll lend me any. Even if you did, I don't want to wear anything with blood on it."

He furrowed his brow before grinning. Then he came closer and brushed his fingertips across my cheek. I took a step back.

"That's fine. I'm actually starting to like this," Jeff said, seductively. I backed up further.

"W-What do you mean?" I asked.

He laughed and grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to him. With his other hand, he hooked his fingers through the loop of my pants and started pulling them down. I gasped.

"Hey, what are you doing? Stop!" I yelled in protest. I pushed and tried to get away from him but he had a vice grip on my arm. "Get the fuck off me!"

"Why? This is fun," he said. Then I felt my pants drop around my ankles. I brought my free hand up to slap him, but he grabbed my hand and interlocked his fingers with mine. My face lit up in embarrassment.

"Let go," I demanded. Jeff pulled my hands against his chest, making me look down. "What the fuck, asshole? Let go!"

When I looked back up at him, he kissed me. Hell no. Not again. I bit down on his lip as hard as I could. He grunted and pulled back. Then he let go of my hands, letting me fall to the floor. I wiped my mouth as I glared at Jeff.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" I yelled. He merely put a hand on his hip and gave me a smug look.

"Which one? I have so many," he replied, before touching his injured lip. "You're pretty feisty, aren't you?"

"Shut up! I'm not like that so stop trying to molest me, you shithead!"

He's really pissing me off.

"I think your brain and your body are having trouble agreeing with each other," Jeff told me, retreating into the bedroom. He came back out and threw a shirt at me, hitting me in the face. I grabbed it and looked back at him.

"You can wear that until your pants are dry," he said. "So, go hang up your pants."

I looked down at the shirt in my hands. It was an extra large black T-shirt that was surprisingly free of bloodstains. I slowly slipped it on and stood up. The shirt hung off me like a dress with the bottom of it falling almost to my knees. I sighed, taking my pants back to the bathroom and hanging them on the clothesline.

After that, I crossed the cabin and sat on the couch, turning my attention back to Jeff, who was starting to cook something in the kitchen area. He glanced at me before turning back to his cooking.