Are you mine?

Chapter 2

As the door swings open I'm swallowed by darkness, making it so I'm only able to make out the sounds filling the room. Heavy breathing, sheets crumpling, and...moaning?

As my eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, I manage to make out two people laying on a bed. The one on top is Mason, beneath him lies a girl I don't recognize. His mouth appears to be latched onto her neck, and her fingers are digging into his auburn curls. All I see is bare skin. At the sight, I can't help my breath catching in my throat, the choked sound making the couple finally realize they have company. They both turn to look at me and I freeze, but before they can say anything, I mumble a quick "sorry" and book it out of there, shutting the door behind me.

I spot an open door on the opposite side of the hall and, finally realizing that this is the bathroom, I go in, leaning against the door as it slams shut. Looking up at the ceiling I swallow hard, trying to ease the knot tightening in my throat. Ugh, this is so stupid! I will not cry about this! I refuse. I stare at my reflection in the mirror in front of me, taking deep breaths with my hand over my chest to try to compose myself.

Despite the fraction of attention I get from him occasionally, and the small flirtations here and there that, in retrospect, I may have been reading too much into, I've always known that anything coming of my crush on Mason was a long shot. I know he sleeps around. I knew that keeping my expectations low was probably my best bet at self-preservation. Still, I've let myself hope and being confronted with a hope-pulverizing sight, such as the one I just stumbled into stings. Just a lotta bit.

Once I manage to steady myself, I shake my head to snap out of it and fix my hair in the mirror before I come out. I steal a glance at the room they were in but the door is now wide open, which I'm hoping means they're outside by now.

I head to the kitchen and pour myself another drink before walking to the empty living room and taking a seat on the couch. I need a few more minutes before I can go back out there. With one hand, I take long swigs of my drink, I run the other one through my hair and rest my head on it while I look down at the ground. My eyes are fixed on the hardwood floor when I feel the weight shift on the couch.

"Tough night?" The person sitting next to me asks.

I half-heartedly laugh and shake my head, taking another drink. "You have no idea." When I finally look up I'm met with a pair of piercing green eyes, rimmed by the darkest and thickest lashes I have ever seen. "What about you?" I ask, turning my head towards him, "Shouldn't you be out there...hosting or something?"

"Meh-" Noah shrugs-"Being the host is overrated, you don't even get to enjoy your own party. It's mostly just going around making sure nothing gets broken, stolen, or that no one passes out on my front lawn. And a whole lot of cleaning up other people's puke."

"Please don't talk about vomit," I plead, rubbing at my temples, sensing an oncoming migraine, "I'm feeling sick to my stomach enough as is." I steal a look out the window behind him, spotting Mason not too far away from us. His arm is snaked around that girl's waist, who I now recognize as Brianna, and his fingers are sneaking under the hem of her shirt playfully. Noah looks in the same direction and then back at me.

"Guy trouble?" he asks.

I take a big gulp, "Painfully obvious, isn't it?" I ask, my eyes heavy.

"At our age, most problems revolve around guys, girls, or both," He shrugs, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on his knees, "Just an educated guess."

"A correct one, too," I confess, averting my eyes back to the floor. The corners of my vision are starting to get a little fuzzy and I swirl the contents of my cup around debating whether or not I should quit drinking while I'm ahead. Though considering my emotional state, I decide against it and raise the cup back to my lips.