Her Poison

Chapter 12~ Pancakes?

I felt like there was cotton in my mouth when I woke up. My head was spinning. And I stumbled a bit as I got off of Carlyle's bed. For a moment, I'd forgotten where I was and I wanted to panic. But a few seconds of staring at the red walls around me refreshed my memory.

I felt a headache budding at the back of my head. I felt terrible. I hadn't even pulled my shoes off when falling asleep. My ankle was feeling better, though.

Water. You need water. I thought to myself and opened the door. The silence that dominated the bus told me all I had to know about what time it was. Either it was really late at night, or everyone had slept through and it was already tomorrow afternoon.

I walked lazily to the kitchen area, then started rummaging through the cupboards. All of the top ones had various items of food in them, mainly chips. Then I remembered that Harmony had bent down to take the shot glasses- which unsurprisingly were still on the ground, along with the half empty bottle of vodka.

I bent down and I felt my head pound. Yikes. Not my intended reaction at all. I saw the glasses and grabbed one.

"What are you doing?" I recognized the velvety voice but still started up. "Careful there, we don't want to hit that pretty head."

I closed the cupboard, and got up slowly, in fear of worsening my headache.

I showed a shirtless Aaron my glass, "Want me to grab you one?" I offered. My voice cracked a bit. Talk about third degree post alcoholic dehydration.

"Nah I'm good," he shrugged. He looked absolutely delicious. His black sweatpants hung dangerously low, and my eyes lingered on his v-line, before meeting his eyes again. There, I could only see mischief and mystery. It was better than seeing mistrust I think.

His black hair was parted in the middle and looked particularly tousled. It kept on falling in his eyes although every now and then he would tuck it behind his ears. The tattoos on his upper torso and arms called to me, and I was dying to come closer and touch them. Analyze them. And maybe even memorize them. The same way I was dying to memorize every line of his beautifully sculpted body.

There stood the difference between the attraction I felt for Carlyle and the one I felt for Aaron. It was a dark, sweet feeling that pulled me to Aaron. His own aura, his essence, the fact that I was so obviously a prey to him. That I wanted the wolf to chase me. Whereas Carlyle was beautiful and compelling in the most conventional sense. There was no irresistible tug after the lust I felt for him.

Besides, Carlyle was right. We were oddly similar, not in behavior, but in nature. I saw his selfishness just as he saw mine. But I wasn't attracted to that. I wanted to protect him from himself... and maybe even myself. People like us needed to be protected from ourselves. People like me had no business being with someone so similar. I saw the underlying fragility. I'd never sleep with him.