(Angst/make out scene)
🖤Virgil🖤
The morning after.
It's been three weeks into my relationship with Roman, and I know he doesn't actually like me. He's made that clear. But I can't help wanting him. He wants me too, just, in a different way..
Standing in front of the full body mirror, Seeing my reflection for the first time in weeks. I've noticed this have changed since I started dating princey.
Hickeys and bruises all over my body.. The bags under my eyes got worse. My eye's were red and puffy.
Although a part of my brain told me this was a toxic relationship, i ignored it, telling myself that he does love me. Even though he's only told me that when I was under him in bed.
This is bad, he's bad for you.. I mentally told my reflection.
I feel like I'm lying to myself even though it's the truth. It hurt. The truth hurt. It hurt more then the bruises. I feel like if I did end the relationship, it would hurt me more then Roman does.
The worst part is I know he wouldn't care if I ended the relationship, but I can't help but overthink. I know I'm the only one that doesn't want to end the relationship.
But I just can't stop loving him.
"Virgil~ come back to bed." Roman groaned, just waking up.
I feel my aching legs walk me back to the bed, laying besides him, he sits up, as he uses his arms to hold himself above me, locking lips with me.
But there is no love in his kisses, only lust.
I kiss back with my love though. His hands snake up my shirt, taking it off, the hickeys and few bruises more visible.
I feel this overwhelming feeling of dread. I guess this feeling is the truth sinking in..
He pulls away, connecting his lips to my neck making me gasp. Despite having had kissed my neck millions of times before, my neck is still sensitive, and the hickeys make things sore.
His hands find their way to the helm of my pants, letting his thumbs find their way under them.
Roman softly bites my neck, making me moan his name. He pulls down my pants, leaving me in just my boxers. He takes off his own pants, and I feel myself sink back into the process, of being used, then telling myself I'm going to break up with him. And then don't..
