Falling for my Sensei •• Kakashi Hatake x OC

Simple Words

I wake up feeling over heated.

I open my eyes and try to shake off the disoriented feeling from my nap.
Shifting my weight, I realize that I'm laying on someone.

I'm curled up in between Kakashi's legs with my head on his chest wrapped in the fuzzy blanket I pulled over us while we were watching the movie.

I must've dozed off in the middle of it.

The lights are off and it's dark outside which means I've been asleep for a while now.

From the slow rise and fall of Kakashi's chest, I can tell he's asleep.

I slowly take the blanket off and attempt to maneuver myself off of the couch without disturbing him.

He stirs a little but he doesn't wake.

I check the clock above my stove.
11:30 at night? Shit, I must've really needed the sleep.

I open the door to my bedroom and head into the bathroom, grabbing a fresh towel off of the shelf.

Opening the shower door, I turn the knob to hot and let the water begin to heat up.

My entire body is sore and the only thing that sounds good right now is a hot shower.

Facing the mirror, I grab my toothbrush and squeeze a drop of toothpaste onto it.

I attempt to brush away the taste of being sick from earlier.

After rinsing my mouth out I study my reflection in the mirror.

The dark circles under my eyes are prominent and make me look like I haven't slept in days.

My eyes are red and puffy from all of the tears I shed earlier.

I stand up straight and let out a loud sigh.

Moving my arm to the bottom of my shirt, I slowly lift it over my head, feeling the ache in my arms come to life as they move.

I throw my shirt on the floor letting the cool air blanket my skin.

My reflection catches my eye as I stop right before dropping my shorts to the ground.

The loud, purple bruises lay boldly against my white skin. I'm sure they could be spotted from miles away.

I bring my fingers up to my collar bone and slowly trace over the different sized welts.

My fingers glide lower over the curve of my breast, only stopping to caress over one that resembles long fingers.

My body involuntarily shudders at the touch. I place my hands over my chest, covering myself up.

I can't escape the feeling of being exposed.

I wince at the light pressure of my hand against my piercing.

So they're pierced, huh? Why don't we put them on display.

I let out a soft whimper at the fuzzy memory of his words.

I bet they're pretty.

I look at my myself in the mirror and I feel anything but pretty.

I feel tainted.

And used.

And dirty.

I no longer feel that my body belongs to me. They broke in and took what they wanted.

Because they could.

I slide my hands down my stomach and hook my fingers under the waistband of my shorts, dropping them to the floor.