I woke up with a terrible headache.
"Morning Nate." He said, smiling at me. He was in our closet, looking for an outfit. He was only wearing a thin shirt and underwear. I couldn't help but stare for a moment.
"Morning..." I said, when I finally could from words. "How are you walking around, do you not have a hangover?"
He laughed a little. "The more you drink, the less you notice it."
"You're crazy," I said, smiling weakly.
"So are you," He said, walking over to sit beside me.
I flinched a little.
"Something wrong?" He said.
"Not really, just... still drunk"
"Ah, I remember my first blackout night, I think I threw up twice." he seemed like he was remembering a fond memory.
"Oh, by the way, Gabby called you. She said you two were going to get lunch today."
"Oh. Okay sure." I said. I wonder what she wanted. I mean, I could probably guess. I know she's trying to get Ryder and me apart, but she was my friend after all.
"I kind of don't want you to go," he said, kissing my neck.
"Why not...?" I asked, even though the answer should be obvious.
"Well because... She'll try to take you away from me. I don't want you gone. You mean a lot to me. I hope the bruises only hurt your body." He kissed my cheek, tinted with purple, and I stopped caring about the pain once again. I leaned over and hugged him from the side.
"Mine," I said, burying my face in his chest.
He smiled.
"Don't worry. I won't let her take me away from you." I said, promising him.
"Alright, be back by 3, if you're late call me. Have fun. I've got to get to work. It's 8:30 after all."
"Aw, leaving so soon?"
"Yeah, meeting at 9:15 today."
"Okay. Love you." I said.
He gave me a long sweet kiss on the lips.
"Love you too." He left the room, and I closed my eyes again. I felt so sick.
I laid back down for about 80 seconds then opened my eyes. I noticed a maroon line on the bed next to me. After examination, I could tell it was clearly blood.
Did something happen last night? I ran to the mirror and looked at myself, I had no new cuts or bruises. It had to be him.
I started panicking. He hadn't seemed injured at all when he came home, and he'd been alone for 5 minutes last night while I laid down...
I'd made him feel the need to cut. The reality stung more than any bruise.
I'd done this to him...
It was my fault.
I felt tears stream down my face, worsening the sick feeling in my stomach. I threw up on the ground, and with some shaky breaths, I looked into the mirror. I looked sick. My eyes were puffy and red and my skin far paler than usual.
I must really, really be a bad person.
Once I finally was able to take a deep breath, I cleaned up the mess and made and put on some clothes. I'd been behind on my school work lately, and I needed to try to get caught up before I met up with Gabby. So I sat down behind my computer and got to work.
YOU ARE READING
The scars on my neck...
RomanceIn the end, what hurt me the most wasn't his hands or body... [By the way: this story contains/references 11 things I consider mature content Please read carefully]