Dancing In The Stars

- 10 -

- Virgo -

I feel like shit. It feels like walls are tumbling down on me, and I really feel like shit.

Maybe it's because I stopped taking my antidepressants.

I don't know, but I'm sitting at a bar, a tequila shot in my hand. I'm staring at the pool of liquid, knowing that if I come home smelling like alcohol, Scorpio is gonna be pissed.

But I drink the shot anyway, and I can already feel the burning fluid start to make it's way to my core, numbing me.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here?" A guy slides into the seat next to me.

I ignore him, staring at the glass in front of me.

"Hmm, I see. Don't like talking to pretty boys?"

"Shut up, you cocky bastard," I mumble, glancing at the guy. He's grinning smugly, his blonde hair turning different colors with the disco lights.

"As you wish,"

He does become quiet for a little. I stare at him. He stares back grimly.

I can't help what I do next. I kiss him, and it's like coming up for air.

It feels new, it feels unattached. No strings.

The kiss intensifies, and he takes my hand, helping me stand up. "You normally kiss strangers?" He asks as we walk.

"Shut up," I murmur.

He holds me against his car door, kissing me roughly, his body up against mine.

He lifts me up and takes me into the car, trailing kisses down my neck.

He sucks on my collarbone, creating a mark. And it feels good, and it feels great, because it's different. It's like coming up for air, and other than him taking my breath away in the best possible way, I can finally breathe.

He creates marks from my collarbone to my chest, where he pulls my shirt off, then my bra, then my pants, then my underwear.

I'm completely naked in front of a man I've never met, and I know I'm gonna feel guilty, but I know that it feels good and right now, I don't care.

I let him touch me, I let him take a part of me that nobody has ever taken with my consent.

Then afterwards, he puts a number in my phone. I don't kiss him goodnight. I just put my clothes on and leave without a word.

I sit in my car, fixing my hair. I stare at myself in the mirror. I expect to cry and to feel disgusted. I feel powerful, though.

After a little bit, I drive home. Scorpio's car is in the driveway.

I go inside, taking deep breaths and praying to God that he doesn't notice that I'm different.

"Hey," he says, walking over to me. He leans in for a kiss, but I look down, avoiding his lips. I look back up, and he's frowning, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, tired." I say. My voice sounds different. Everything is different. He doesn't seem to notice.

"Oh, alright. Well, if you want to get some rest.."

I don't let him finish, I just walk past him and into the bedroom.

I am fully unregretful, and that's why I feel disgusted.