Playing With Fire || d.h

15. Cupid Screwed Up

Trigger warning: reference to rape
(A/n): PJ is actually one of my favorite YouTubers of all time, and I know the way I'm portraying him in the story is completely inaccurate to his real character. However, I needed someone to play this role, and I didn't feel comfortable just making up a whole fictional person.

Your POV

He was drunk, he didn't t realize what he was doing. It's not that big of a deal anyway, it's not like we wouldn't have sex at some point.

Then why do I feel so disgusting?

I look to the left, where his alarm clock sat, blinking 7:48 in fluorescent green light. I lay numbly in bed as PJ snores beside me, his duvet being the only thing covering his body, and now that I think of it, the only thing covering mine.

I carefully crawl out of bed, trying not to disturb him. Looking for my clothes, I notice the used condom sitting on the his nightstand, and I have to sit down as nausea overwhelms me. I robotically pull on my clothes, stuck in a senseless daze, unable to even focus my eyes.

I've only felt this way once before. But then, you had a reason. If I wanted to stop PJ, I obviously could. I probably didn't make it clear I didn't want to do it, anyway, especially with him being wasted. Oh, my God, if anything, I took advantage of him.

I wander sluggishly around the apartment, unable to sort out my thoughts. Eventually, I end up in the kitchen, and see the glass of water I had filled up, but never actually drank. I walk up to it, and notice the minuscule bubbles clinging to the inside of the glass. I stand staring at it, immobilized. Why am I not moving? But then again, why should I move?

Out of the blue, it was as if I had just gotten off a carousel for the tenth time in a row, my head spinning, my sight blurring, and I hastily grab the edges of the counter with my sweaty palms.

"Come on, let's just have a bit of fun."

"No! Help!"

"What, you think anyone's gonna hear you? No one cares. Your slut friend is too busy fucking my buddy right now, she's not gonna be wondering where you are."

"Stop, please! Please!"

My eyes turn to tunnel vision, and plump teardrops flood from the corners of my eyes.

"No... no... no..." I mumble repeatedly, swaying back and forth. Not now, not here, not again. Why is this happening?

I take vigorous, deep breaths, and after an eternity, I'm finally grounded enough to see my hands, control my vision, feel my feet on the cool tile. I take one deep breath, wipe the salty tears off my cheeks harshly with the back of my hand, and make eye contact with my reflection in the window across from the sink.

"You're okay," I utter to myself. "Everything's gonna be okay. Just move on." I run my fingers anxiously through my hair, and move on.

~~~

"Morning," PJ yawns, turning to face me with a sleepy smile.

"G'morning," I reply, giving him a false smile. I'm suddenly filled with worry about if and when he'll remember what happened last night, and how he'll react. However, he casually rolls out of bed and stretches, as if he's completely oblivious to the fact he's wearing nothing but his bare skin. I instantly look in the other direction, not wanting him to catch me looking at him. I can feel the heat rising in my face, but hope it's not noticeable

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him grab his underwear off the ground, and tug them on. He then turns around, facing me. I look at him, and it's immediately obvious he's able to notice the awkwardness in my face.