Hopeful and Hopeless

Twenty-One.

"I know that I'm not perfect and that I don't claim to be, so before you point your fingers make sure your hands are clean." - Bob Marley

Wednesday, April 19th, 2018

A LOUD CRASH FILLS MY EARS and I open my eyes groggily. I am looking up at a ceiling, an unfamiliar ceiling. Shooting up from my position in the also unfamiliar bed, I look around at my also unfamiliar surroundings. My head hurts so hard that I can hear it thumping.

I hiss, massaging the side of my head a bit. Where in the world am I? How did I even get here?

The last thing I remember was going to the bar and ordering a drink, then another one and another one and from then on, my mind is blank. Wait. I didn't? Did I? I couldn't have?

Looking down at my body, I am wearing just my underwear, my matching bright pink hello kitty underwear and pink bra. "Shit. Shit. Shit." What on earth have I done? Did I just lose my virginity to some random guy at a bar? How on earth could I be so stupid? I jump out of the stranger's bed and look around the room to give me any sign that I may know the person. There is literally nothing in here

"Okay, okay. Let's not jump to conclusions, Em." I pace bath and forth, racking my brain as to what I should do. I can't just up and get out of here. There is quite obviously someone else in this apartment with me that would most definitely see my trying my best to sneak out.

"You're awake." A voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I quickly spin around to face the door, a little too quickly for my obviously hungover brain, I let out a groan. There he stands, in all his annoyingly perfect glory. Lukas Berkeley? Oh my god, did I have sex with Lukas? I stand there speechless for a few moments, just taking all of this in.

Well, mainly taking in his shirtless-just-woke-up look. I've never seen him shirtless before but I could tell that he was ripped, I was always looking I guess. All of the muscles in his body are clearly defined and sculpted, he literally is a Greek God. His hair sticks up all over the place, not the 'trying to look like I'm not trying' kind of hair. But the, 'I just woke up and haven't looked in the mirror yet' hair. But he still manages to look undeniably sexy.

"And you're shirtless." Is apparently what I muster up. Out of anything in the world that you could have said, you say that?

"You're not too far off." His eyes travel all over my body and I quickly slap my hands over myself in a desperate struggle to cover up. I don't even care about him seeing my body. I care about him seeing my scars. The ones that are everyday reminders of the crash. They're big and ugly and stick out and they are just disgusting.

I have one long scar travelling from the bottom of my ribcage to my belly button on my left side, another scar right on my hip and one on my left thigh.

"You're beautiful, Emilie, by the way." He adds hesitantly and winces as if he regrets saying it. My face heats up completely and I feel my knees go slightly weak. I keep doing this. I keep letting him have this effect on me, it is so idiotic.

"You are too Lukas." I trail off, my discomfort growing with every passing second that I am standing in front of him in my underwear. "Weird question, but did we... you know?" I hope he understands what I'm insinuating, I really don't want to say it out loud. His eyes widen in shock and he shakes his head vigorously.

"No. No." He chuckles nervously.

I let out a long sigh of relief, "Oh, thank God."

"Wow, I didn't realise the thought of doing that with me was so unappealing." He comments, turning around and walking away from his place in the doorway. I follow after him, through the unfamiliar apartment. Who lives here? Not Lukas, obviously