Send a Prayer Up Above

Chapter 7

Jesus.

Kylo had done a good job. With a pounding head and a circling stomach, I stared at my mirror image in the bathroom. There was no beating around the bush, it was clear what my skin told, screamed really. The bite mark that looked like it was on its way getting infected, the purple choker around my tan neck, the intense hickey that looked more like a burn mark, the clear imprints of fingers turning blue on my arms, the bruises around my breast beneath my shirt, and the most condemning evidence perhaps; the damage his belt had done to my wrists. Everything was sore, and everything throbbed. 

But possibly the most painful and sickening feeling stemmed from the fact, that had Kylo wanted to take advantage of my drunken state last night, I was more than willing to grant him it. I didn't want him simply because I was drunk, and he was there, and I had been lonely for so long, no. That would have been much simpler. The ugly truth of the matter was that I wanted him because I wanted him. Alcohol just lowered the walls, opened the gates and invited all the dark urges out to play.

The end of the night was . . . It was a little bit shrouded in darkness, not going to deny that, I couldn't really recall all the details. But I know once I was on the verge of blacking out, he had stopped. He didn't even remove my underwear. He didn't really . . . Do much. He did, but he didn't. It was all just, just very confusing and I, I felt like I should be thanking him? For not actually taking advantage of me entirely? Or giving me a black eye like I had assumed? But then on the other hand, the whole reason I was in his bathroom looking like a victim was because of him in the first place. I shouldn't forget that, not now, not ever. It was too easy to fall back into it, into us. It felt too natural and it kept fooling me. He's dangerous because he's tempting and I shouldn't let it blind me.

I punched the marble counter. The whole thing was just frustrating. That's all it was. But damn, note to self; do not drink in the presence of Kylo. No matter what. Regret was oozing like a bad wound and I wish I could puke it up like I could the poison from my veins. I couldn't though, it would stay. Make a home for itself in all the corners of my mind, linger on the edges of my consciousness, reminding me just out of spite every time I'd forget for a second. 

I grunted and started rummaging his medicine cabinet for antiseptic liquids. I found a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a preemptive shiver ran through me as I thought about how much it was going to sting. I took three short breaths of courage and went for it. I splashed the liquid into the bite and waited for the sting. After three seconds nothing happened and I was about to release a breath of relief when it hit.

"HOLYFUCKINGSHITBALLS!" I screamed out while gripping the counter. It felt like I had just thrown acid on my skin. God damned it the bastard would pay for this.

I lifted my eyes from the white knuckles of my hands as Kylo walked into the bathroom, evidently surprised to see me. I had woken up before him, snuck in here wanting my own space desperately. To think clearly without his distracting presence, but here he was, letting his eyes travel on the marks he had made onto my skin. I tried to cover myself a bit by crossing my arms, shifting the weight on my feet. I was wearing a white t-shirt and my pajama pants but feeling safe with him was the same as being reckless.

"Pleased with your work?" I asked, voice venom.

"I am." He said, brushing past me to turn the shower on. "Want to join? That bite mark looks like it's getting infected, should clean it up."

My mouth fell. "Kylo, what happened last night, I was drunk. It was a mistake, it doesn't mean we're at the point where we're showe—"

"Yet, it wasn't," Kylo said and looked at me with intensity in his eyes I couldn't fathom.