A sob rips out of her mouth and it feels like it's tearing through her chest. She shivers, shudders, trembles, shakes, fucking rattles against Ron's chest. It's just so goddamn cliche and this just makes her cry harder. She pulls fistfulls of his shirt between her fingers and bites down on her bottom lip, chewing hard. She wants to bleed because she's so raw and wide open, it would feel the way pain should. Not weak papercut pain. She wants to take the wound to another level, she wants to feel it in another way.
Her lip splits and the warm blood dribbles down her chin, coats her front teeth. She laughs because it's so fucking twisted and she's so fucking twisted. Ron laughs too, a dull glow in his eyes. Well, he's fucking twisted too. "Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron.." she shapes the name with her mouth. It's a crazy sound. It sounds like run. She'd like to run, but she doesn't think she can get up and if she could, she might float away.
Her clothes are so heavy, they might hold her down, they are holding her down. They are fucking crushing her. She makes frantic whimpers, eyes wide as she fumbles to tear off her top. She gets it off, but keeps going, nails across her chest. Hard, hard, hard. She falls backwards, legs still entwined around his waist, she can feel the denim of his jeans rubbing against her thighs. He leans forward and kisses her stomach. She smiles, his glow is in her eyes too, it shines white-bright and blurs out everything else.
Author's Note: No, they weren't fucking. I just want to make that clear. THEY WERE NOT FUCKING. They're stoned out of their goddamn minds. People do crazy shit when they're stoned. Either way, let me know what you think. 3
