Wizard (Martin Garrix Fanfiction)

Chapter 26

Madi

I wake to the brightest light I've ever seen, and wince at the shooting pain in my skull. I know I'll only be able to remember last night if someone help me fill in the details. I pull the duvet closer and up over my head. It pulls back. Oh no.

I sit up, throwing the duvet off of me, noticing simultaneously the person asleep next to me and the clothes I'm wearing. The boy is laying on his stomach, his head turned away. I peer over, and my aching head takes a moment to recognize that it's Martijn. Thank God. Wait. No. Not necessarily.

Panic fills me as my mind focuses on my shirt. It's one of Martijn's, and as I smooth my hands over the fabric, I feel my skin under it. I don't have a bra on. I look back at Martijn, horrified. Now my stomach and my head are killing me. I'm going to vomit.

I get out of bed as slowly and lightly as possible, blinking at the intense light streaming through the windows. I'm stuck here in Amsterdam for God knows how long with someone I had a drunken one night stand with who I also happen to be sharing a room with? I need to start making better choices.

As if I've ever made good choices when it comes to guys, I can't help but think as I edge my way off the bed and towards the open bathroom door. I hear a groaning from behind me and I can't help it - I turn to look. Martijn has turned over and is sitting up, one bare arm propping himself up. His bare torso and toned chest look incredible in the morning light. His hand reaches up and works its way through his mussed up hair. I pause, caught in the second as he catches my eye and holds it. Time seems to freeze. My anxiety melts away. I wish I could remember last night, but for a different reason.

Martijn runs his fingers through his hair, and I exhale. "How you feeling, Mad Dog?"

"Uh... not so great. I can't really... remember anything," I say, feeling my face heat up.

Martijn chuckles. "Really? So... you don't remember what happened with DJ Marty?" I blink. That sounds vaguely familiar. I squint, trying so hard to force my brain to work through the thudding that echoes in my ear. I feel nauseous again.

I give up. "I can't... I don't know. Martijn... how far did we go?" I ask, embarrassed again. I pull his shirt down as far as I can, feeling so exposed. 

Martijn grins. "Well... you wanted to go a lot farther than I did."

My eyes widen. "What - what does that mean. Martijn?" Martijn laughs.

I brush my hair out of my face, and when I see his eyes following the path of my hand, I bend over, quickly tugging my hair into a bun. I straighten back up and pull down a couple face-framers. Martijn's eyes change suddenly. Even from this distance, I can see as a storm brews inside his irises. My stomach flutters at his intense look. 

In one fluid movement, he's off the bed and grabbed my face. I take a step back, not comfortable with kissing him without knowing what we did together last night, but he firmly turns my face to the side. "What the fuck is on your neck, Mad Dog?" He's so shirtless and so close, it's hard to focus.

I blink. "What do you mean?" I inquire, running my fingers over my neck. I can't feel anything. Pulling back from Martijn's grasp, I turn into the bathroom and lean over the sink, peering into the mirror. I have a little collection of hickeys scattered on my neck and collarbone. Martijn appears behind me in the mirror, watching me explore the marks with my fingers.

"That fucker," he mutters, and I whip around.

"What fucker?" I demand, grabbing his arm. He opens his mouth, but I hold up a hand, looking away. "Wait." Slowly, memories begin to return. Riding Bastian's motorcycle, sitting in the park drinking wine and watching the festival below us, kissing and... after that, I'm not sure. I know that if I had sex, it sure as hell wasn't with Martijn. I'm positive of that. I never would have done that after he left me sitting at Spinnin'.