Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my imagination.
Author's Note: I know I've taken months to update, but I just haven't had the drive to write. But now with seaosn 6 back in full swing...I got some inspiration. This story has actually taken a different plotline than originally intented, but anways...please R/R
A hand flew to her waist, gripping it with agonising force.
A smirk fell on the tender skin of her neck, leaving trails of beer soaked kisses and drug induced bites.
She involuntarily shuddered as his calloused fingers tugged at the straps of her already torn and shredded evening gown.
Clothing torn, skin bleeding…a slurred sigh.
But she felt nothing.
--
She trembled with each step, afraid of sinking through the carpet. The gentle fingertips of her friend offered support to her lower back, guiding her. Her face hung low, fixated on every calculated movement her feet made. When the back of her legs grazed the plush fabric of the sofa, she hissed before falling backwards into the cushions.
The sofa dipped as her friend occupied the cushion beside her, taking her brittle hand. "Peyton…talk to me." She'd practically begged, her eyes tainted with a familiar sadness. The blonde reluctantly turned to her friend, gingerly lifting her heavy lids. She ran her tongue cautiously over her broken and swollen lips. "He'll hate me," she mumbled, turning her stare to the wooden coffee table. "Who will? Luca-" she cut her sentence short as her friend flinch. "Peyton. Peyton you've got to talk to me. You've got to tell me what happened."
Slowly, reluctantly, her blank emerald orbs turned to the awaiting chocolate browns. "I was raped." She seemed to spit the words from her bruised mouth, filling each syllable with every inch of hatred that consumed her. She tried several times to pry her lips open to continue, but all she could manage was a muffled shudder of breath. "Who did this to you?" the brunette whispered, clinging to her friends hand for dear life. A few deep intakes of breath ensued from the blonde, fearing the moment this inquiry would arrive. The painfully innocent laughter of a child coming from the outside world absorbed her body and soul. For seconds, minutes, hours, she fell deep into the echo of the naïve sounds; willing the painless emotion she felt to evaporate. A deep exhale of held breath. "Nathan."