An ill mouthed girl with a fiery temper and bad attitude comes across a blonde headed stranger in her bed whilst covered in something strange. His friends are just like brothers and family soon becomes a tight nation to them all as Sloan grows close...
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Sloan
"Do you remember being in that house?" He questioned. I gritted my teeth; of course I fucking did. I didn't want to cry. Not again. "You remember what they did to you? Can you remember being in that body?"
I looked him dead in his brown eyes and shook my head angrily. I didn't want to be back there. To have it fresh in my mind; the cigarette burns, the glass scars, the abuse, the rape. "Don't do this to me." I mumbled. "Please. Don't do this to me, not you."
"Now listen to me." He clutched my cheeks and looked deeply into me, into my orbs threatening to spill with secretive tears. "It's not your fault." He said, stroking my hair with his thumb. I shook my head and looked away. He brought me back to stare him dead. "It's not your fault." I bit my lip painfully hard. "It's not your fault."
"I know that." I lied. Of course it was my fucking fault - I was a bastard child. I made my brother horny and my dad was just angered by my mother's disappearance.
"It's not your fault." He continued to repeat. I felt a tear slip. "It's not your fault." I placed my hands upon his hips as more tears continued to fall and dance upon my cheeks. I nodded my head. He continued to state that it wasn't my fault and I slowly rested my head within the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his curls as my eyes streamed in pain. I let out a few whimpers, grasping his torso in as tight of a hold as I could manage, feeling his arms wrap around me lovingly. "It's not your fault." He whispered. "I love you." I remained completely silent but managed to mumble something along the lines of "I love you" back to him, which only caused him to squeeze my body harder and place a tender and lingering kiss upon my head.
Fuck.
*
I felt extremely self-conscious, cooped up in a pair of leather pants and a low cut shirt, one of Izzy's fur coats wrapped around my shoulders with Duff cautiously applying the eyeliner to my waterline. It wasn't that I felt disgusting - I just thought I looked particularly ugly lately. And it was a little downing, but otherwise not precisely forming to be an issue.
Every girl had their insecurities. I just happened to dislike every inch of myself at the moment, is all.
"What's up, buttercup?" Steven smiled, a little blow surrounding his nostrils. I pointed to the area and he sheepishly grinned, brushing it off with a slight shrug. "You seem down."
"I'm fine, Steve-o." I smiled, hoping it would suffice enough to be plausible. He seemed to buy it, smirking right on back before rushing out with his teased hair bouncing along, picking up his baseball cap that had two straws and beer cans rested against the sides.
"Fill me up!" He ordered to Duff, who laughed and shook his head, pouring some of his almost empty vodka into the cans, roughly the same amounts into each. Steven took a sip and hummed in delight, clapping the taller blondes shoulder and sprinted back out of the room. At last, the night of the party had arrived. And the boys had invited more people than I could count, the phone being in consistent use.
