Benefits

Ch. 79: Too Serious

Too Serious- The Neighbourhood

"If I could change your mind, Then I would for sure, no doubt. If I could take back time, then I would reverse it now."

Dawn P.O.V.

The next morning I was awfully sore from the night before. My limbs are barely able to function out of bed. When I walk into my bathroom, I reflect my first night with Jake without a condom, or should I say the first night without us to worry about having a condom.

Bruises ravish my sides and my hips. There's also a large hickey on my neck. And down there... don't get me started on how sore I am to walk.

I slept naked last night, and I changed my sheets because they smelt of sex.

It was all worth it though. I like it when he loses control, almost as much as when we take it slow. After another hot shower and my daily morning routine, I trudge downstairs for some oatmeal before I go to school.

My mother is already seated, which is unlike her. Her head is buried in a newspaper. She told me briefly she's taking some time off from work because of her head injury. She should be going back by next week. I begin to eat my breakfast, and doing so, she begins to stare at me.

My chews become slower, and the bite that I once was chewing on now becoming harder and harder to swallow from her persistent gawk.

"How was your sleep?" She raises a brow at me.

I furrow my brows at her unusual question, and I'm finally able to swallow with the help of the water that I poured for myself.

"Go-od." I croak out. My voice is drier than usual.

She eyes me up and down, and her persistent unreadable stare causes me to sweat. "You sure are bundled up."

"It's the fall." I mumble. It's true though. I'm wearing a turtle neck that I haven't worn in ages and some loose sweats mostly because I'm too sore to squeeze into jeans. I wear the turtle neck to cover my dark hickey on my neck. It's too dark for foundation to cover it this time.

"You haven't worn a turtle neck in years."

I drop my fork. I'm suddenly not hungry anymore, and I don't understand her consistent digs, "If you are implying something, just say it." I quip.

"He was there last night, wasn't he? Jake?"

I stay silent, giving her the answer. My sheer panic causes me to freeze up.

Her once now reserved cold face turns slack, and it looks like she may cry, "He's hurting you isn't he? Oh my goodness it's my fault-"

"What are you talking about!?" I shriek, I finally look at her glassy eyes instead of the kitchen table.

She wipes away a few tears, "I heard you two arguing last night, and then you were shouting and he was shouting. You were groaning so loud." She trails off.

My cheeks redden. She heard us arguing, but more importantly, she heard us having sex.

"You were so loud, I- I was this close into leaving my bedroom, but I thought you might of watched a movie or something, but you're all covered up, and you're voice is scratching. It's my fault- if I wasn't so weak with your father-"

"Mother, we were having sex!" I scream.

She chokes on her spit, and her eyes widen as she looks down at the kitchen floor. "Oh. Well... why were you so loud?"

"I... uh... we have rough... sex..." This conversation is becoming more and more awkward, and I just admitted Jake and I are sexually actively. At the same time I just admitted that we are rough in bed. Oh my goodness. "Not- not all the time, but we are pretty rough."