The Not-So-Quite-Love-Story Story

Chapter 4- "Just watch"

        Unedited

Here's a more cleaner version of Chapter 4

Hope you like it..

And...Leggo!

Claris Jacobsen:

I woke up begrudgingly from a night consumed with nightmares. A hot sun's glare barged intrusively, through my curtain causing a spontaneous glow to burst in my room. Fatigue was going to rule my day today, I could just tell. When I needed my brain to be lucid and clear, was when it wanted to be shut off and unconscious. At the sound of my alarm I forced my heavy naked body out of my bed and stood, swaying as I battled with my eyes not to close.

I winced.

A raw sensitivity was in between my legs and it throbbed. I was blinded by flashing colourful spots as a pain strained in my forehead and nausea overwhelmed me. I needed a shower; showers always put my mind into perspective.

I scrubbed my skin red raw. I targeted the soap scum to try and fend off the interlocking feeling of dread and nausea for both the night and the morning. I ran my hands once through my hair with my shampoo and finished with my shower.

When I returned into my room I proceeded to towel dry my hair before blasting with 150 degrees of hot air for ten minutes. With that completed, I moisturised and threw on a black bra with a red lace rim and matching black pants. Now onto my outfit. I put my hair in an Elsa like braid before I continued with deciding my outfit. Unfortunately, the movies weren't so great at portraying teenage girls getting ready in the morning. Instead of trying on every single piece of clothing I had in numerous of combinations, in five minutes I settled with a black v-neck top and black jeans, so I could cover my new cuts in a way that wouldn't get me in trouble with the school.

Cutting yourself gave you this fleeting moment of power and control, where you feel completely invincible because you've found an effective way of coping. But waking up and seeing a harsh red line slit makes me feel so ashamed, so...weak.

Sighing, I move myself over to the ivory vanity table and sat down on the stool. Make-up was reserved to a sweep of mascara on each lash, a thin layer of foundation and a few finger dabs of my favourite red tinted lipgloss. Rick wasn't too BDSM on me last night, so there was no need to overload on the make-up.

I stood up from my table and walked over to my bedside where my school bag and everyday-school-shoes were sat side by side. I struggled into my loafers and sat my brown leather fringe bag on my shoulder before rushing downstairs into the empty foyer. The house was quite so I assumed Katherina kept her part of the bargain and left to the 'Ritzy' hotel Rick booked for them.

Walking into the Kitchen was not what I anticipated.

Rick was sat at the rectangular shaped Kitchen table with Tasia only a few centimetres away from her. She sported her school uniform and was slowly eating a bowl of cereal.

Rick's eyes flickered up and met mine, he smirked.

"Mornin' Cookie" The chair groaned against the floor as Rick pushed it back to stand up. He stalked towards me, clad in a wife beater and stripped boxers, and his calloused palms engulfed his cheeks.

My eyes closed on reflex.

The heat of his breath is embedded in my conscious as his lips hover of my forehead and down my jaw line. His lips pressed kissed a path leading up to my ear, his lips helicoptered over it.

"I really enjoyed late night" Rick kissed under my ear, "and I know you liked it as much as I did"

Yea, because screaming in agony and begging for you to stop really meant I enjoyed it.