Davien | ✔︎

7 | 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙙

☠︎︎

Starley's POV

/ edited /

Tossing and turning on a familiar surface felt like a need at this point of time, as the discomfort being provided to my lower half for no reason was apparent, and I squinted my eyes because of the abrupt light coming from my left, presumably from my window.

Getting an itching pain in my lower back was not at all pretty, as I desperately demanded a good stretch after having a dreamless sleep with no interruptions, causing me to slowly open my eyes because of seeking some clarity of my surroundings, before groaning out loud from the sight.

"What the fuck." I cursed out loud after contorting my fingers to crack them, looking up at the same boring ceiling of my bedroom in my apartment.

God my head hurts so fucking bad.

"What the hell did I do yesterday?" I whined a small woe of pain, combining with a scrunch to my nose because of a disgusting feeling adorning my heart, getting up on the bed with some surprising struggle, only for my back to hurt at the same time with my head simultaneously.

"Ow..." I muttered with a wince escaping my lips, trying to decipher what the heck happened to me after feeling my whole body aching now together, causing me to almost collapse on the mattress all over again, and make no progress.

"Did I actually get hit by a damn truck?" I asked myself with a snarl after annoyingly finding my lower half to not move at all, trying to remember yesterday's events desperately as nothing was coming back to me at the moment, and I just laid there in bed with a perplexed expression.

Yesterday was...Friday, we had to go to the party and...I had drinks, met Cole, before talking Pablo, Belle made us go to a room—

Oh.

OH.

WAIT.

DID I LOOSE MY V-CARD TO DAVIEN!?

With that thought in mind after impulsively figuring out why the heck I was having a major hangover, I quickly got out of bed, well tried to anyways, almost tripping on the clear carpet because of my weak body and rushed to my bathroom to turn the lights on and look at myself in the mirror.

Processing the fact that I did...things with him in that way was weird enough, and what was more weird that I don't remember half of it. I don't remember how things escalated, how it started, how it ended, and how things might be from now on. I didn't know anything, but I did know one thing and that is that I don't look presentable, and gawked at the mirror.

And when I did, I was shook as fuck.

Oh. My. God.

First thing I noticed was that a lousy T-shirt from my closet was thrown over my body, which was not even properly worn by me, and I was completely naked under it, meaning that if I am home right now, someone dropped me here and made me wear the first they could find in the closet.

My poor bare neck was covered in a thousand scarlet hickeys that surrounded every inch of my clear skin, even the bottoms of my breasts had hickeys, and almost my whole stomach and lower region had dark teeth marks and nails scratches, leaving myself to see a horrid sight.

My usually normal lips were swollen to the brim, and my whole body was sore like anything with my urges to stretch long gone because of the rush to the bathroom, especially my thighs. Or should I say, the area between my areas.