QOC: Describe your dream guy/girl.o • O • o
Sam's POV
O • o • OYou know how I said I enjoyed the cold and I take cold showers? I now know that makes me odd, maybe even super freaky. Because right now, all I want is someone's warm arms wrapped around me. I just want someone to hold me with their warm-blooded body and tell me I'll survive this.
My eyes slowly peek open, and I blink twice carefully to regain my vision. Relief floods me when I realize that I can see again. Not only that, but I can hear clearly.
It takes me a little longer, though, to realize that I'm not in my own bed. My heart jumps as I recall the best I can of last night. All I know is that Scott and Friends tried to gang rape me, and some guy who's name started with an "a" beat the living hell out of Scott. Oh, and then he brought me to his car and I met his wife. But that's it, right?
I must've fallen asleep, and the couple brought me to their home.
No, that doesn't make sense either. Because the party, if I remember correctly, was thrown at their house by their daughter (who allegedly seems to be troublesome). So where the hell am I?
I dig through my brain to see if I can rack up any details other than what I've already remembered, but nothing comes up. Just bits and pieces of me screaming and almost crying.
I remove the comforter from my body and assess my situation. I'm dressed in a large black hoodie (obviously made for a guy) and a pair of black leggings (that fit for obviously a girl). The room I'm in is for a guy though. Surprisingly, it's kept neat with only a pair of jeans and a belt on the ground. Other than that, it's perfectly clean. Also, it's very, very nice. Like richly nice. So—
Ohhhh.
My eyes land on a picture frame, and I walk over to it, eyeing the photo of a mini-Kason and a mini-Kassidy. They look identical, as they are twins. But back then, they looked even more alike than now. Time really does change things.
My brain flashes back to last night. I remember borrowing the wife's phone to call Kason, but I don't remember what I'd said or really anything that happened after that. So I'd somehow ended up in his house in his room...and in his bed.
In. His. Hoodie.
"You're up."
I jump at the sound of a voice, turning around quickly. My circulation slows to its normal pace again when I see that it's just Kason, but it picks up again when I realize that he is shirtless.
"Yeah," I reply, unsure of what else to say. How much does he know about what happened? What did I tell him? What did he see?
I search his eyes for some sort of openness, but nothing is there. I know that he's pissed. He does this thing where he is short in words, and his eyes get all hardened. And he acts coo and all casual-like. That's how you know he's angry: he acts the exact opposite of it.
"Thanks for the clothes," I say, testing the waters and wave my hands in the air since the sleeves fall passed them. They flop around as a gesture to the material.
"What were you doing?" He asks, ignoring my gratitude. A sheer anger is covering those gorgeous eyes.
I furrow my brows. "What do you mean?"
He runs his hand through his messy hair: a sign that he's becoming frustrated already.
"At that stupid fucking party," He says, venom on the tip of his tongue. "I thought you were different and that you knew better."
YOU ARE READING
Can I Have Your Attention Please
Storie d'amore"I'm Kason Ryhawks, darling. Womanizer. Player. Whatever you want to call me. And I make peoples' lives a flaming hell." I smirked, a twinkle in my eye. "Well that's cool I guess." I hold out my hand. "I'm Sam. Just Sam." ~ And the truth was, Sam...