Lost After Midnight

•Explanation•

{•Unedited•}
~Adriel's POV~

"So can you explain why your grandma, aunt, whatever she is, called and yelled at me to come over?" I ask. Amor sits awkwardly on her bed with her legs Indian style, picking her nail polish. She's hardly looked at me since I got here a few minutes ago. Her mom had to hold her little brother back from attacking me when he answered the door.
My mood has changed from this morning. It's not for some douchebag reason, but because I feel horrible. I feel like it was me who caused her to panic when we were in bed even though she repeated told means it wasn't.
"I owe you an explanation for what happened earlier. I don't want you feeling like it was your fault," she says, finally saying something, but still not looking at me. Sighing, I sit down next to her, tilting her chin up.
"You don't have to," I say. I would love to hear the reason for my sake, but she doesn't look okay with telling me.
"I should, because it's important and if it happens again it's better for you just to know," she says. I nod, resting my hand on her leg. "Remember when I said I was scared of my moms boyfriend?" I nod, remembering the conversation we had that night in the car when I went to get her. "When I was little, he would come in my room at night."
Her eyes start watering and she looks sick. "I didn't feel anything the first time, but the second time I woke up. He would touch me and I couldn't do anything about it; I felt hopeless. I guess touching me did something for him cause he never put anything in me...down there."
My jaw clenches as I take my hand off of her. Her eyes follow it, trying to blink away tears. "You say down there like he did somewhere else. Did he force you to...give him oral?" She nods, pressing her lips together.
"I would wake up with my mouth being forced open. The first time I was in so much shock I couldn't do anything." I don't say anything, not sure if I should. "When you were touching me and earlier, I just thought back to that and panicked."
     I scoff, looking back at her. "So I reminded you of the man that molested you?" I ask. She looks down. "Fucking great."
     "I'm sorry," she says.
     "No, you're not. If you were you would have told me this before you even left my house," I say. She stays quiet, picking at her polish again. "Did you ever try to make him stop? Fight back?"
    "Of course I did," she says.
    "Obviously not hard enough." She looks at me in shock, letting out a breath that sounds like the wind has been knocked out of her.
     "Leave," she says.
     "No, I need an explanation," I tell her. She gets up, arms crossed. "Why didn't you tell someone if you knew it would happen again? Unless you fucking enjoyed it." That shocked look turns to disgust and I realize what I said.
     "I was thirteen, he was a grown man; I didn't enjoy it," she says, trying to keep her tears at bay. "And I did try to fight him off, but when he's burning your damn vagina with a lighter, you think it might be better just to stop. What you just said is like me asking you if you like being getting hit with a belt. Obviously you don't."
       I reach for her hand but she pulls it away. "I'm sorry. I'm just mad; at the situation and I'm accidentally taking it out on you," I tell her. She doesn't look at me. "Please talk to me."
     "I just tried that and you were an asshole," she says. I get up and wrap my arms around her.
      "I'm sorry," I say again, kissing the top of her head. "I know you didn't like it; of course you didn't." She looks up at me, her eyes red. "Please don't cry." Cupping her face in my hands and look into her eyes, trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do. "You just need to tell me these things so I know how to handle it."
     "It didn't look like you just handles this well," she says. "I'm tired." I let her go, taking a deep breath. She sits back down on the bag as I make my way to the door. "C-can you stay for a little bit? Just until I fall asleep." I didn't fuck up too bad.
     "Your dad won't get mad?" I ask, walking over to lay with her. She throws her arm over my stomach and rests her head on the my side, mumbling a no. I run my fingers through her hair, looking up at the painted ceiling. "Goodnight."
     "Goodnight."

   AN: I don't have much to say about this one. I hope you enjoyed!
     Question: What's something you would like to see happen in the story??
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