(Demetrius' Point of View)
Great. Of course, Hermia just left. I'm fucking shit-faced. My relationship is pretty much ruined, so I don't give a fuck about anything anymore. Everyone is still outside partying and eating crap, of course.
I walk into the house. My phone vibrates. It's 1:00 AM. It's my dad. I read a text that says "Where are you?" I sigh and roll my eyes. My vision is blurry and I'm struggling to find my way around the house. As I take a few steps forward, I stumble and accidentally open a door as my hand falls on the knob for support. The door opens and slams into the wall next to it with my weight.
"What....?" I groan as I look up. This is Helena's room. I pick myself up. Across the walls are posters, polaroids, and notebook sheets. I chuckle. My pounding headache gets worse. As I make my way into the room, I fall onto her cabinets, dropping things along the way. I fall back on her bed and groan as the lights blind me. I turn to my right. There's a nightstand with a frame on it. It's Hermia. Her hair is flowing in the wind and she's on the beach in a beautiful, yet revealing bikini. I grab the frame to take a closer look.
I remember when I first started falling for Hermia. I was still with Helena, and she introduced me to her, being her best friend. I instantly fell. To be honest, Hermia has been giving me signs that she feels the same way about me for a while now. We've never talked, but...
I can tell. The way she flips her hair. The way she smiles at me. It's undeniable. And her body... I stop and look at the picture. "Fucking Christ...." My hand goes to my pants and finds itself gripping at my erection. It was bad enough how Helena left me. Now Hermia leaves after grinding on me. How the hell am I supposed to function?
I grudgingly sit up on the bed, my sweaty hands gripping the frame. A horny couple comes and accidentally crashes into the door while making out, slamming it shut in the process. I look at the door and back at the frame. My erection is aching at this point and I'm losing patience.
With a swift wave of emotion, I lose all care. I unbuckle my belt, undo my pants, and pull everything down just enough to pull out my erection. I grip it in my hands. I can feel it pulsating from the torture. I smash the frame onto the cabinet, breaking the glass and frame itself, loosening it enough for the photo to fall out. In the shards of glass, I pick up the photo.
"Fuck it."
I grip the photo with my left hand as my right strokes me up and down forcefully. I groan in pleasure. After three hours, I finally feel relief. Images of Hermia's body run through my mind. My imagination runs wild. She knows I want her. She's doing this to me. My body begins to sweat and ache from the sensations going through me. I'm panting.
Hermia. Fucking Christ. Lysander wouldn't love you like this. Lysander has never loved you like this. I love you. Fuck. Oh my god. Your body. You're fucking me so hard. You love pushing back on it, huh? Holy shit. I can't believe we're doing this on Helena's birthday. You really want me that much? How much do you want me? Huh? How much? Fuck! Scream my name. Go. Fucking...I'm... Oh fuck... I'm going to... I'm...
"Hermia..!" My body releases all tension and I groan in pleasure, practically screaming her name in ecstasy. My liquids shoot out of me and onto the photograph in my hands. I smile in relief. Everything slows down and dials back to normal. As I finish, I begin to calm down. My chest is heaving up and down as I breathe. I drop the semen-covered photograph to the floor. Wiping my hands on Helena's bed, I clean myself with her covers before putting my pants back on.
I get up and begin to walk out of the room. Just before I leave, I throw all items and trinkets on display to the ground. I don't give a fuck anymore.
"Fucking bitch." And with that, I leave the alcohol-stained house.
