Fifty Shades of Friar

Vanilla Latte

I put a spell on you
Because you're mine
You better stop the things you do
I tell you I ain't lyin'
I ain't lyin'
You know I can't stand it
You're runnin' around
You know better than that
I can't stand it
Because you put me down

- I Put A Spell On You; Annie Lennox
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"To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."

- Federico Garcia Lorca
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Something was vibrating. I couldn't tell if it was my head or something else. But I didn't move; I feel so warm and comfortable. Something was wrapped around me. Kind of like a cocoon. Something soft was beneath me, sort of like a cloud. And the scent was heavenly. What was that? Vanilla? Lavender? It was addictive.

"Hmm..." I hummed in delight as my eyes flutter open, my vision nothing but a haze. I let out a deep yawn as I stretched out my arms, popping my strained limbs, and arching my back slightly for good measure before I dropped back into the huge blob of marvelous cushion beneath me with a satisfied sigh. I blink a couple of times to take away the grogginess in my eyes and my eyesight was clear again.

The first thing I noticed was that the walls surrounding me were pure white. I was crowded by a crowd of pillows to support my head. Behind me was a large square headboard. There was a giant flatscreen television molded into the wall nearby the huge window - which, I am pleased to see was shut by the velvet red curtains - two tiny tables holding beige lamps and in the corner there was a small dining set for one person. Next to my bed was a door that I think leads to a bathroom. There was an entrance with no door at the foot of the bed where I could see a small peek of what I think is the living room.

I sigh and close my eyes. Everything felt so serene and tranquil. There was no noise of cars honking, people shouting at each other, the faint noises of the train racing along the rattling tracks, or of my neighbors being obnoxiously loud as the mothers scolded their children and the elders loudly talking. It was all peaceful, calm. I could go back to sleep and let the morning haze keep me at bay.

Except, it couldn't. Because this all felt so wrong.

My eyes pop open as I shot up from the mountain of pillows and frantically looked around me, now feeling a sheer sense of panic at the fact that I did not know where I was. This wasn't my room. That isn't my TV. This bed isn't mine. Where is Riley?

There was a vibration coming from one of the tables. I glanced at it to see my cellphone plugged into some wireless charger. I immediately reach for it and turn on the screen. It was seven-forty-two in the morning on a Saturday. Oh no. It was the weekend - Jonathan!

I check at all my recents and I let out a groan at the amount of times everybody tried to contact me.

78 missed calls.

112 messages.

70 voicemails.

The majority were from Cory, Topanga, and Josh. Each of them demanding to tell me where I was and to call them back soon or they were going to call the cops on me. I only had one of each from Riley and she didn't sound so worried in them. She sounded mostly smug and content. That oddly kept me at ease because Riley would have been the most insane if I had gone missing and probably would do anything dramatic to find me.

Honeybunch: You're probably sleeping right now but I just wanted to let you know I made it home okay. Chai kept me company the whole night. I'll called my parents and let them know that you're too sick to take care of Jon this weekend. Let me know when you're on your way home. I can't wait to hear everything. Love you, Peaches!