An Unraveling Rose

two

"In that case, I'm glad I was your first."

My eyes fly open, perspiration coating my face, heart racing from my nightmare. Every other night for the past year I've had the same blurred dream randomly now and again, each ending with me taking in ragged breaths and my wide eyes burning a hole in my ceiling. The dream felt more like a memory than anything else, like my subconscious was trying to remind me of something important, but I wasn't asleep long enough to get it all. And not a single detail ever changed. A night out with Will, getting home wasted, then completely blacking out, only to be woken up by the feeling of being gagged by a fist, or something, I didn't know, because just as my breathing turned to painful drags and my fingers could no longer scratch the person standing before me, a fear of death jolted me back to consciousness. I haven't touched a bottle again since they'd begun.

I take in a few slow breaths, trying to calm my labored ones, still shaken as I shift slightly in the bed to face my right. I freeze, suddenly aware that this isn't my room.

And that my head is resting on a man's chest. Damn it, William. The man couldn't even allow me the pleasure of sleeping in a separate bed, could he? My eyes catch a soft pink mark on his shoulder, and despite how hard I try to ignore it, my eyes can't help being drawn to the love bite on his left shoulder blade. This isn't the first time I've seen a distinctive mark on Will's body either.

This one isn't like the other rough, sloppy ones, however. Maybe he'd sweet-talked her this time, or bought her a pair of diamond earrings to wear to the party tonight. La bénédiction's blonde hair tucked behind one tan ear and bearing her lover's gift brings a small smile to my face. Just thinking of the beauty disguised as a blessing makes my heart swell for the witty brown-eyed women that had willingly agreed to do me the favor of being William's distraction.

William knew nothing about our deal, and part of the contract she and I had signed kept any of us from telling him about it. A, our safety, and b, it kept their relationship spicy, she'd said. Yeah. Okay.

"Take a picture, Lina. It'll last longer." Will's snarl startles me out of my thoughts, and I jerk back, looking up at him. His platinum blond hair is disheveled upon his head, eyes holding the aggression they usually did when he was ready for a fight. One I wasn't going to give him the pleasure of, of course, but a fight nonetheless. Not this late in the evening, and definitely not on my birthday.

"Really William? The night before my birthday?" I turn around, sitting up in the bed. "If you didn't want me finding it, babe, then maybe you should have tried covering it up. Or waited until later tonight, when I would be too exhausted to care what you were doing."

I gingerly place my feet on the cold hardwood floor, getting ready to get up when Williams' hand wraps around my arm. I let out an oof as I'm dragged backward, back now flat against the bed, and then William is on top of me, pinning my hands above my head.

"I love it when you get smart with me Lina. Do it again, I dare you."

I smile sweetly, staring him in the eye as I contemplate my next move. This is obviously a threat, and if I play dumb he'll see right through me. But I sure as hell won't stay quiet, it's too obvious how much he wanted a snapback. He brings his face closer to mine, waiting, a smile on his face as if he's already won.

"How long are we gonna continue bickering like a middle-aged couple, Astley? It just gets so old you know? I say something, then you do something, then I'll get on your nerves on purpose, then you'll fail to try and strike me...and on and on and on." The emphasis on his last name causes a twitch in his eye, and I know I've ticked his button. Only Mason calls him by his last name. 

I push him off of me and move forward, locking the door to his bathroom faster than I myself thought possible. For some reason, whenever it comes to William, my will to fight is sliced in half. I don't even retort back sometimes and choose to hold my tongue. Personally, I liked to believe and tell my two besties that it was because I was the bigger person, and I was "choosing my battles". But deep down, past the part of me that only tolerated William for my father, there was still a part of me that thrived off my anger towards him. That, and the fear.