eleven

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MICHAEL

Nine years earlier

It's in the quiet when you notice something is wrong. 

I pull up the sheets tangled at our feet to cover us. Isla sighs and snuggles closer, lying over me. I absently brush one hand through her blonde hair. I'm lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling, as if at any moment, an answer might appear on the blank white surface.

I have been running from my feelings for weeks. I've been trying to be everything that Isla needs, and in doing so, I've lost sight of what I need. I'm no longer sure who I am. Or what I deserve. If I even want to be with Isla, or if it's just the habit of being together that is keeping me in the relationship. The comfort of knowing that someone needs me that is keeping me holding on.

Isla shifts in my arms and her blue eyes stare fiercely into mine. "Don't ever leave me, Michael."

I gaze into her eyes. Solemn. I don't know how to respond to that. The time for empty promises has passed. Like when Isla promised she would see someone, and then she never did. Instead, she used the threat of self-harm to keep me from seeing my friends. She used everything at her disposal to keep me at her side.

I hate her for it.

But worst of all I hate myself. For falling for it.

Am I enabling her?

"I don't even know how to sleep without you," Isla murmurs, nestling under my arm and closing her eyes.

But I can't seem to close mine.

At some point in time, I wake up to Isla moving over me, straddling me. Her bony knees dig into the mattress on either side of my waist, and she sweeps down, her blonde hair kissing my chest, just a second before her lips do.

This is how I've been running. And for weeks I've been content to let Isla use her body's persuasions to keep me at her beck and call. Like a dog on a lead.

Tonight's no exception. She wraps her hand around my thick erection, watching in satisfaction as I swell in her pumping fist. Ready to sink into her warm, wet chasm. She rises enough to notch me at her entrance, and then she's sinking down. She's in control. She's beautiful. Painfully so.

I gasp at the sensation of being surrounded by her and my hands grasp her hips in a punishing grip. With each sway and fall, her breasts bounce, and my thrusts become harder. Angrier. Showing my frustration through my blatant disregard to whether she finds pleasure.

But Isla seems to love it. She's moaning my name, her voice rising in pitch and becoming more tremulous with each invasion of my girth.

I'm relentless, rutting into her like a man possessed by his baser instincts. It could be any woman above me right now, and Isla's face swims in the dark. I find myself imagining someone else, someone softer, gentler, kinder. I close my eyes and picture golden hair and brown eyes, as she clenches around my cock. The thought causes my release to pummel through me and into Isla's spasming vagina.

Thank fuck she's on birth control.

I'm finished. Selfishly, I pull out of Isla, not bothering to check if she orgasmed. I pull on some boxers off the floor and grab my phone, heading to the door. 

Out. I have to get out.

"I need to piss," I mutter, before shutting the door behind me.

I do piss. Then I walk through the dorm building until I find an empty room. I use the band on my wrist to let me into the room and walk over to the window.

I look at the contacts on my phone, as I scroll past 'Ashley' I freeze. Was that who I had been imagining? The auburn hair and brown eyes are accurate, I look at the tiny contact photo of Scottie and my heart squeezes.

Surely not.

Also, isn't that illegal?

I'm twenty and she's a fucking sixteen-year-old.

No, the person I had imagined appeared like Scottie, but more mature, older. Almost like the adult version of Scottie.

Fuck.

I shouldn't even be having those kinds of thoughts about Scottie. She trusted me like a big brother, and what did I do? Twist her image into some depraved sexual fantasy?

I ignore the niggling guilt I feel that I doubly shouldn't be having those thoughts when I'm with another girl.

I hover over the call button before I chicken out and continue scrolling down.

Instead, I call my brother.

"Michael?" Jack answers the phone, his voice scratchy. "Why are you calling me at 3:56 am?"

"I need your advice."

"Okay," I can hear some rustling and it sounds like he's getting up. "What's up?"

I want to sigh in relief.

But I don't do that.

Inexplicably, I start crying. My shoulders are shaking and I'm barely holding the phone to my ear. My body wants to cave in on itself, and I end up sitting on the carpet.

"Michael? What's happening? Are you okay?" Jack asks.

"No," I splutter. I keep trying to regain control, but each time I think I've finished the waterworks, they start again. The sobs wrack my frame.

"Michael you're really scaring me," Jack says, sounding serious. Jack is hardly ever serious.

"I don't know what to do," I say when I've finally recovered the faculties to speak.

"About what?" Jack asks.

I'm silent.

If I tell him what I'm upset about I'll sound like a dick. Like a whingey, entitled dick. I don't know how to explain everything I've been feeling. I'm not even sure Jack will understand, he's never been in a serious long-term relationship.

Jack sighs when it becomes evident that I can't explain.

"I think you should come home," he says. "You can talk to mum and dad. It's also Ashley's seventeenth birthday this weekend. She really wanted to see you and was really crushed when you didn't reply to her letter."

"What letter?" I ask, frowning. My chest tightens as another surge of irrational anger has my body coiling, ready to thrash something.

"The letter she sent you to invite you..." Jack trails off. "Never mind, it probably got lost in the mail."

My brain supplies an alternative reason that Scottie's letter could have mysteriously disappeared. Isla. My stomach clenches and I feel sick.

Isla hadn't wanted me to see any of my friends, getting angry and upset and jealous whenever I spent time with someone who wasn't her.

Was it that far-fetched to think she would sabotage my closest friendships?

"You're right, I should go home. And please let Scottie know I'll be there for her birthday."

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a/n: Thanks for reading! I'd be so grateful for any feedback you have so feel free to vote and comment your thoughts.

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