September's Staircase [On Hold]

Chapter 10

I apprehensively pull his t-shirt down my body not that I have much of a choice, slouching over the toilet to rid my inside of the toxins that the smell of his t-shirt triggered.

As the minutes tick by I regain my ability to move and pull myself up to look in the mirror pulling all of my hair on the right side of my neck to hide the hidious hickie Dylan left behind. My wrists are slightly bruised from his harsh grip and I trace my finger over the evidence of my assault.

My body is still trembling and only now do I notice how quiet the place finally is. I slouch down on the floor once more and look up at the white walls finally allowing myself to think. I want to be mad at Dylan, I want to have the cops at his doorstep by tomorrow morning, I want to have Matty beat the shit out of him but non of my options feels right.  The completely naive part of me, the one that looked into his eyes and saw all the different emotions that flashed through as he looked down at my frail body beneath him tells me that it wasn't his decisions and the picture he snapped of me is a strange form of conformation for me. Maybe they pumped hallucinogenic drugs into the air and this is all some messed up mind trick......... Matty I'm furious that this has happened because of him and he is oblivious to the matter.

The bathroom door is forcefully opens and hangs slightly off its hinges, Matty strides inside with sweat soaked hair and wild eyes. " Why didn't you fucking open the door I've been banging on it for at least five minutes now, fuck... you had me so fucking worried." He screams at me but his expression drastically changes to worry when he sees my state. He rushes to my side and pulls me up, off the floor and onto his lap. I scurry off of him and pull myself up so I'm now on my feet and begin to back out of the bathroom slowly.

"Please don't I know you're mad, fuck she isn't my girlfriend it's a long story I've been looking for you the entire  night,  I was beginning to think you left." I cringe at the fact that he thinks I'm 'hurt' because of his relationship status, he stops speaking and with one swift gesture he pulls me to him holding me in place to look at me.

"Whose clothes are you wearing?" his eyes trails down my body and his face hardens when his gaze reaches my wrist.

"Who did this to you?" my pores raise at his ice cold tone and before the name fully tumbles out of my mouth he is pushing through bodies and pulling me behind him.