JENNIE
I waited for the punch line.
Some quip about how silly I was, maybe? How foolish?
The minutes ticked by, but she said nothing. Nor did she move, and I could only stand there as ice cold breath caressed the back of my neck in a steady rhythm. Whether or not this was some twisted game, I had no choice but to play along.
"You b-bought me?" I hated how breathless I sounded and struggled to keep my voice steady. "Is that allowed?"
"It's not unheard of."
I frowned. What? Did all people like her buy their own toys to keep them from getting lonely on the shelf?
"The rules say that you must be bought," she added, "but they do not specify by whom."
Ah. A loophole. It would have been nice to know that little detail before I'd made a fool of myself.
"So, why you?" I gathered enough nerve to turn and face her, shivering beneath the flimsy material of my shift. The room was massive, but with her blocking the door it might as well have been a closet. "Why me?"
She shrugged, expression unreadable. She didn't mention our tense standoff in the theater, though her body seemed free of anger—for now. "I don't like to leave things unfinished," she said finally. "And I refuse to offer an 'unsuitable' commodity."
Unsuitable? I tried to hide the way I flinched by crossing my arms over my chest.
"So this is just another way for you to finish my training?" I wanted to make air quotes, but one look at those eyes and I squashed the urge. "To make me 'suitable?'"
"For what?" she wondered. "The timeline specified in your contract is almost up. You only needed to secure one buyer and you have. You've fulfilled your bargain."
"Oh." I shifted on the tips of my toes. For some reason it was harder to process those words than it should have been. Fulfilled your bargain. "So, was this just some way for you to save face?" I wondered. "Beat Somi at her own game?"
"Possibly." Her voice gave nothing away and I felt lost, grasping at straws.
"But …"
I shivered as her hand drifted to my cheek. I could only stare as she caught a stray curl between her thumb and fore finger and then tucked it in place behind my ear. Thinking of her crisp and clean suite above the cathedral I got the sense that she preferred for things to be nice and neat. Perfect.
"Don't make any mistake," she went on, returning that hand to her side. "I didn't buy you to 'save' you from the horrors of being auctioned. It was strictly a business transaction on my part, and I will expect no differently from you tonight than I would from any other girl."
The words didn't affect me the way they should have. I didn't tremble with fear, like Little Red before her Big Bad Wolf. I didn't cower. Instead, I tilted my head back and observed her carefully.
I expect no different tonight …
"So you bought me for …" I cleared my throat, gathering up the nerve to utter that so very dangerous word. "Sex?"
I thought of all those busty beauties and laughed—I couldn't help it.
The idea of her wasting good money on me—to salvage her pride of course—while everyone else had probably beaten themselves bloody over one of Somi's 'girls' was both pathetic and damaging to my pride. Laughter was the only way I could hide just how badly her utter lack of faith in me hurt.
"You must take your line of 'work' very seriously," I sneered. "How much was I worth to save your own skin, hmm? One dollar? Three? Five?"
"The cost is irrelevant—" Her eyes slid shut and reopened a chilling shade of gray. "I never leave a 'project' unfinished."
Her fingers encircled the ball of my chin and lifted it, forcing me to meet her gaze for so long that I swore I could taste silver—strange and metallic—on my tongue by the time she finally pulled away.
"Let's see how well you recall your lessons," she proposed.
Before I could react, she leaned in, lips grazing my jaw-line before settling near my ear. Then, she whispered something; a command so vulgar that I had to dig my own nails into my palms just to keep from gasping, horrified.
I figured that I should have slapped her, like any good socialite would, just turn dramatically on my heel and stomp away. Why, I never!
But I knew in the pit of my gut that was what she wanted me to do; to merely flash her fangs and have me run screaming from the room. I think she only knew how to play the role of evil villain and watch people react.
Well, not this time.
I pulled myself up to my full height and took a step forward. My gaze deliberately traveled from that cold, beautiful face—avoiding those eyes however—and down to that blue tie, then lower …and lower.
Look at it clinically, Jennie, I told myself, all the while reaching for her zipper. It's only a duty. The same way she liked to insist that everything leading up to this moment had been only 'business.'
You don't really believe that, my inner voice whispered. Do you?
I tried to ignore it.
Apprehension coursed through my body, as the pads of my fingers caught hold of the tiny bit of metal. Slowly, I dragged the zipper down, gulping as her words taunted me; a request so blunt that I couldn't even repeat it inside my own head.
She was watching me, expression blank as I undid the clasp holding her pants together while fighting to keep from accidentally brushing her skin.
Clinical, clinical, I chanted while I loosened my grip so that her pants could slide unhindered to the floor.
God she was beautiful. I hated how my body noticed that—reacted to it—even though I should have been disgusted by her, by this.
But, the fact was that ...I was morbidly curious as to just how far I was willing to go. Innocent little Jennie Kim.
Shw wore navy boxers underneath, and I never knew that such a simple piece of cotton could seem so menacing.
Come on, a part of me scoffed. Be serious! You can't possibly mean to …
But I only heard Jisoo's voice as I stared down at the intimating appendage shaping the front of her boxers.
'Take control. Tease. Taunt—but never once let him forget that this game is yours.'
The advice was heartening, but Lisa didn't seem inclined to let me make the rules.
"Any day now." For once, there was no mocking edge or sarcastic pun in her voice. Just ice. "I'm sure that even you must have read a naughty romance novel, or two, in your spare time. They give a pretty good play-by-play of how it's done—"
She broke off, mid-sentence when I sank to my knees. I didn't say a word, even while I blindly reached for the waistband of her boxers.
I didn't look up …at first. I couldn't.
Instead, I took my time, winding the soft cotton around my fingers and slowly pulled the material down to her knees. Calves next. Ankles.
When the fabric finally hit the floor, only then did I look up.
My breath caught. Her body was one of those sights that never failed to knock you senseless, no matter how many times you saw it—though once again I only saw half. Her suit-coat and tie intimidated me too much to even think about taking them off.
So I settled for gaping at her lower body. Particularly one impressive aspect …
Crude drawings in sexual education textbooks could have never done her justice. Her shaft was rigid, jutting from a thatch of golden hair.
"This doesn't work if you just stare at it," I heard Lisa comment from above, sarcastic once again.
Very well … I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.
I guess I was supposed to touch it first? Was it utterly sick that I actually wanted to?
My hands shook. It seemed to take forever before they stopped trembling just long enough to make an attempt, and I couldn't breathe when I reached out and gently traced the tip of her with my finger.
Lisa's reaction was swift. Her jaw snapped shut, teeth gritted while those eyes darkened into a color that bordered on ebony.
I had no clue what the hell I was doing, but she didn't bat my hand away, so that had to be a start, right?
Fighting down my unease, I reached out for her again, trailing a finger along her impressive length. The skin was surprisingly soft, almost like silk. I marveled at how damn cold she was—frozen. Hard too, like steel.
Focus, my inner voice hissed. What had she mentioned? Romance novels?
Sure enough, what few I had read did give me a vague idea of what was expected.
I curled my hand around her, forming a fist—or as much of one as I could. A prickle of apprehension flooded my belly when I realized that my fingers didn't quite meet.
She couldn't possibly think I could fit it all in, could she? I fretted. Still, I began to pump my hand up and down, watching the act with an almost student-like curiosity.
It didn't look erotic. In all honesty, it looked ...ungainly. Crouched as I was, I still had to strain upright just to find the right leverage. She was so cold it hurt to maintain the contact for too long.
Still, I could feel her stiffen and, God help me, lengthen even more beneath my touch—that was a good thing, right? I couldn't ignore the part of me that shivered, remembering that night in the club. The way she had felt inside me …
The thought made my grip tighten involuntarily, and Lisa damn near jumped out of her skin.
"S-sorry!" I pulled back, afraid that I had hurt her—only to have a hand colder than ice descend over my shoulder, locking me in place.
She never moved.
I snuck a peek at her through my lashes and saw that she stood completely still. Frozen.
She could have been a beautiful Romanesque statue carved from marble, if it wasn't for the way that one part of her seemed painfully alive. Silken flesh strained against my fingers tips, throbbing in a way that seemed to demand something that I had no real knowledge of how to deliver.
I was panting. My throat tightened, eyes drifting up and over the alabaster skin shielding muscles so hard they could have been chiseled from marble.
Run away, a part of me whispered, this is your last chance.
Then our eyes met—silver on green—and I stopped thinking altogether.
Keep going. She didn't say it out loud, but those eyes did the talking for her, black pupils dominating the pale irises. Now!
I could only weakly pump my fist up and down until I found a steady rhythm. A muscle in her jaw twitched, and as if I was suddenly psychic I knew exactly what she wanted next without her ever having to say it; those sordid little romance novels had covered that as well.
Heart pounding with anticipation, I lowered my head, using my hand to guide me, and closed my eyes.
Unacceptable! My mother hissed from the grave as my tongue slid out, brushing along the tip of her.
Would it be like licking a frozen pole in the middle of winter, a childish part of me wondered? Could I get stuck?
But my tongue glided over her easily, numb by her chill. God, she tasted like snow; delectable, glacial, masculine snow.
As if from miles away, I heard myself gasp—but I wasn't in my body anymore. Jennie Kim was dead and gone, and some new creature was in her place. One who relished the tendrils of heat that prickled through her belly as her tongue hesitantly swirled, stroked, slid down her length from tip to base and back again. It was like some long buried part of me knew instinctively what to do.
And I guessed that I was doing it right.
A low sound teased the air. Like a good little heroine I wanted to chalk it up as something other than what I knew in my soul it to be.
A rumble of thunder? I wondered innocently. The roar of a distant jet plane?
Certainly not a growl, primal and animalistic enough to match the ferocity of the fingers that came to fist in my hair.
"It's not a lollipop, Jennie," I heard her croak after a moment. "They call it 'cocksucking' for a reason."
That they did.
I wasn't insulted, oddly enough, or ashamed, or embarrassed.
I felt nothing at all but raw, sweltering heat as I shifted forward on my knees, parted my lips and took her slowly into my mouth. Her hands coiled through my hair, goading me on, urging me to take more, more, more.
When I couldn't go any further, we both sucked in a breath; let it out in unison, drew in another. I don't know if she even needed to breathe—but the harsh sound played like a lullaby.
And there was no escape.
My inner prude taunted me; slut, whore, skank. No heiress should ever debase herself so wantonly!
But the barrage of insults couldn't smother the true emotion I tried so hard to deny—ignore.
It felt utterly amazing being wanton.
For the briefest of moments, I had control. Over her. Over myself. The simple action of my mouth on her shaft caused her pleasure, though she would never admit it out loud.
But neither could she hide it.
It was all in the way her body tightened. How she began to rock back and forth in tune to the slow rhythm she was urging on with that grip on my hair.
My tongue cradled the tip, which was the most of her I could fit in my mouth, brushing it as gently as I could. Once. Twice. Again.
And with a brashness I never knew I could possess, my lips closed around her shaft once more, urging her further into my mouth.
"Enough—"
I blinked, dumbstruck, as she shoved me back, though her expression was too dark to read. My mouth was open, lips wet. Moisture dribbled down my chin and suddenly reality hit with a vengeance.
Oh, God ...
Shame and guilt flooded back, and in an instant I felt worth even less than the five dollars I had accused her of spending on me.
Until those eyes flashed, a brilliant, hungry silver, and she moved.
"Get up." The order was more for show because she hauled me upright before I could even begin to stand on my own. A hand cinched my waist, lifting me easily from the floor as she staggered back the few steps necessary to reach the bed. Then she shoved me onto it.
I trembled as she mounted after me, wrenching my legs apart. I expected her to toss out another humiliating command, to force me to touch myself again.
But all she did was grab at my shift before tearing it right down the middle.
The next second her hands were sliding beneath my underwear, tugging them down. Eyes dark, she fisted the ivory lace into a ball before tossing it onto the floor.
And I had nothing left to hide behind.
Like a monster from a fairy tale, Lisa loomed above—still in that impeccable suit-coat and tie; the Big Bad Wolf with a weakness for Armani.
Her pupils were dilated. Just a sliver of that infamous eye color remained, nearly lost amid a sea of black. The sight reminded me of displaced halos, circling the black demonic abyss their angelic possessor had fallen into. Two small bits of ivory glinted from beneath her bottom lip and I knew in my soul what they were: fangs.
God, shw looked terrifying ...
I could only lay there, half-naked and trying to catch my breath.
Every single nerve in my body prickled, warm and alive—conflicting with the goosebumps that rose to life in the face of her chill. My throat ached in memory of what I had just done. What little of my shift remained felt more oppressive than the person on top of me.
And I still couldn't help the fact that my eyes kept darting down between us, to where that crisply tailored suit ended and Lisa Manoban began.
Oh God. Images swirled through my head, making my skin heat with shame. Me. The floor. Her. My mouth. Her. What in the hell had I done?
What was I still doing?
"Look at me—"
I was too breathless to admit that, technically, I had never stopped 'looking' in the first place. Instead, I forced myself to glance up, eyes passing over that mockingly bright tie, and met her gaze just as the last hint of those gray irises finally vanished.
Without warning, her right hand came to encircle my throat. The contact was light, though in my mind the embrace might as well have been a manacle chaining me down.
"Who am I?"
Huh? I blinked, confused by the question only to tremble as fear set in. That voice wasn't hers. It sounded deeper, guttural.
"You're L-Lisa," I heard myself croak, only to have the words cut off entirely as her thumb slid down to my collar bone, caressing what I knew to be the path of a vein.
"Wrong answer—" My heart sank at her tone. "How quickly you forget your lessons already."
In disapproval, the icy tip of her nail grazed through the light fabric of my shift, slowly inching downward …
A strangled sound tore from my throat as the pad of her finger brushed the underside of my breast. She was so cold—my body's reaction was swift and unavoidable; a nipple tightened, rising sharp to graze her palm.
All the while, she posed that same question again, impatient.
"Who am I, Jennie Ruby Jane Kim?"
I choked in a breath. Held it in until my lungs screamed for air and tried to let it out without making a sound.
Good God. I never even knew that there were that many nerves in one spot…
"I want an answer," her voice came from miles away. "Who…am…I?"
"M-Ma'am?" I pitched halfheartedly, wondering if this was some not-so-subtle reminder to play by the silly rules she had set. "Lisa, Ma'a—"
Her hand returned to my throat with slightly more pressure, cutting off the words.
"No. Come on, Jennie," she goaded while caressing my windpipe with a thumb. "Use that witty little brain of yours. I want you to say the one thing I've been waiting to hear you utter since our first sordid little meeting."
There were so many possibilities. You were right? I surrender to your magnificence, oh evil one? Though, heart pounding, I had to admit that, this time, I knew exactly what she wanted to hear.
"V-Vampire."
Her eyes narrowed in response and my blood ran cold—though that might have had more to do with that icy touch creeping along my body more than anything else.
"I prefer the term 'Master,' for tonight," she corrected, flashing teeth that seemed uncomfortably sharp. "After all …I did pay for the privilege."
"P-Privilege?" I gulped, distracted; 'Master' seemed so much more demeaning to utter than 'Ma'am.' "The privilege of what?"
Having me butt naked and a slave to her every whim wasn't enough?
Lisa shrugged, as if the answer were so obvious that she didn't want to waste any time saying it. Instead, she slid her free hand beneath my waist, forcing my legs further apart, and settled into the space between them.
I held my breath, painfully aware of every ridge and curve of her palm on my hip. Her body felt like solid ice against mine and I knew in the pit of my soul that it would be so easy for her to crush me if she wanted, to utterly destroy me in an instant.
So why the hell did her nearness make my heart jump in a way that had nothing at all to do with fear?
"I thought I said that you were never to wear white?" Her eyes were on the upper part of my shift, which was the only bit of it still intact.
"T-technically …I'm not wearing much of anything," I managed to croak.
The corner of her mouth twitched. Could that possibly be a smile? Or a grimace, as she eyed the way the fabric dipped dangerously low, baring more skin than I had realized.
I flushed, suddenly self-conscious, but as if reading my mind, Lisa moved before I could even attempt to cover myself. Very, very carefully she dragged a thumb along the pulse thrumming below my collarbone, following its invisible trail.
Down …down …all the way to my navel.
My entire body jerked, in tune to every feather-light motion. Anticipation turned to an almost uncomfortable level of neediness.
God. Just when I feared that this torture might last forever she shifted, bracing a hand against the mattress, and lowered her head ...
Alarm flared, blotting out everything else.
"W-What are you doing?" I tried to sit up.
Without speaking, her hand went to my thigh where she seized a bit of skin between her fingers and pinched. Hard. I gasped in shock, instinctively twisting to get away, but her knee fell over mine, locking me in place.
"Remember your manners," she warned, mouth hovering above my skin. Bursts of cool air assaulted me with each word. "What are you doing …"
She made an expectant sound in the back of her throat, and it took everything I had in me just to choke out, "Ma'am."
Satisfied, she released me, fingers cupping my leg instead, holding it tight against her.
"Do you know what happens next, Jennie?" she asked in an undertone. Those eyes met mine again, unnervingly patient.
Oh no. Scenarios came to mind; her, me, fangs …
"N-No, Ma'am," I lied, until another sharp pinch forced me to rasp, "Master!" instead.
"Oh, I think you know …"
How in the world was she still capable of speech?
From the back of my mind I was uncomfortably aware of the fact that the hard bulge pressing against my thigh was not a random metal bar. Going off the romance novels she liked to reference so much—paired with a basic grasp of biology—she should have been reduced to a rutting animal by now, humping anything she could reach and not …infuriatingly in control.
I was the one who felt barely tethered to reality. Who could barely process anything other than the sensations building inside her own body; a primal, almost animalistic need that demanded she touch me. Here …there … Anywhere.
"I think you do know, Jennie." I could feel icy lips against the hollow of my throat when she spoke again. "Indulge me."
It was getting so hard to string together words, to think at all. I managed to gasp a strangled set of vowel sounds that I prayed she mistook for something intelligible.
Rather than reply, she seemed intent on just observing my skin, eyes narrowed.
It really shouldn't have been that much of a shock when her fangs prodded my flesh.
"Oh!" I jumped anyway, threatening to lurch off the bed—only to find both of my hands clasped by just one of hers. Her lower body fell across mine and I was trapped.
And then, so slowly I couldn't stand it …
She prodded again.
Scraped.
At the back of my mind, I knew that those fangs merely grazed the surface, never sinking too deep—or drawing blood—but my body's reaction was just as violent as it had been that first night. I writhed. My toes curled helplessly in the black silk sheets.
My mind was dominated by a single thought: More, more! And when she finally allowed herself to go deeper, to bite … The world exploded.
Colors were sharper, more vibrant. Everything shifted and twisted and spun. I couldn't hear a sound above the roar of my own heartbeat.
With teasing scrape after teasing scrape, she taunted me. The cruel game seemed to last forever until finally, she pulled back.
Those eyes held me captive, once again dominated by black, as she adjusted her weight and mounted me fully. Her free hand began to roam my thigh and I tensed, heart in my throat, even before she forced a finger inside me.
I moaned at the intrusion. It hurt—though nowhere near painful as that first night. On second thought, the sensation was more uncomfortable than anything else. Without giving me time to adjust she started to move, thrusting in and out. With every harsh slide, she returned a little easier than before—deeper—but it wasn't until she made a cruel accusation out loud that I realized why.
Like a teacher demonstrating the obvious to a naïve student, she held up a glistening finger for my observation.
"You're wet," she said before callously sliding the digit back in. And then another … "For me," she accused while I quaked, damn near senseless. "You want this."
The words bounced around the inside of my skull, unabashedly blunt. Wet for her. I wanted this.
God, I had no clue what she meant—something told me that I really didn't want to know.
With her inside me I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Her fingers alone were massive, splitting me apart, and worst of all ...
Some greedy, terrifying part of me just wanted more. It craved the destruction only she could bring more than anything.
When I didn't reply to her taunts, Lisa fell into a brutal rhythm, twisting and curling those fingers, rubbing …until I was bucking greedily into her hand, gasping like a fish on dry land.
It felt good, I couldn't deny that. Wrong—but so very, very good.
I groaned in a mixture of shock and relief when those fingers finally slid free.
Maybe then I could think? Catch my breath?
The thoughts turned out to be nothing more than wishful thinking as the contact was replaced by something else.
"No more preliminary games," I heard Lisa insist on a barely restrained growl. I could feel her grip over my wrists quiver, as if every instinct she'd been fighting to control had chosen that moment to break free. Apparently, even a vampire could hold back only for so long.
"It's time for you to earn those so-called five dollars."
I flushed as she threw my own words back in my face—but I didn't have to suffer the shame for very long.
She entered me slowly this time, almost as if in punishment, forcing me to feel every single ridge and curve of the shaft I had explored so thoroughly only moments before with my mouth.
Inch by precious inch she filled me, dominating every cell; I barely found enough room in my lungs to suck in air, to breathe.
My teeth descended into my lower lip as she withdrew. Thrust again. Again. Again.
If there had even been any pain this time it faded quickly, replaced by a heat that smoldered in my belly.
I didn't know if it was a lack of ability to draw in oxygen or sheer will that kept me from making a sound, or crying out. Only the creaking of the bed filled the silence—but somehow that was more shaming than anything else.
This was really happening. There was no escape.
I didn't know when my eyes started to flutter shut, or when my vision blurred. I was only aware of a sudden clarity as she pinched me once on my hip, hard.
"Look at me."
I had no choice. My eyes drifted up to find that those swollen pupils had been reduced to mere pin-pricks amid a sea of gray.
Her jaw was clenched, eyes glowing as she rocked her hips, filling me over and over until even a sharp pinch wasn't enough to keep me tethered to reality. Every action slowly pushed me towards some invisible threshold …and then over it.
I moaned. Shuddered. Trembled.
Fire filled me, building within my belly until I couldn't take it. Then, all at once, it boiled over into an inferno.
And I was consumed.
From light-years away I heard Lisa groan; the only sound she ever made during those twisted, silent minutes. Both of her hands had moved to my waist, holding me in place as she brutally pumped in a steady, unyielding rhythm. Newly freed, my fingers flew to her shoulders—the only solid thing within reach—pulling and grasping, heedless of the expensive fabric at risk of being torn in my clumsiness.
I couldn't help it.
Oh God, God, God, I chanted as my body rode some imaginary escalator up, up, up, driven by every thrust until …
I broke. Nonsense, meaningless words tore from my throat as Lisa drove deep, striking a part of me that made everything darken for the briefest second—and then shatter.
I wasn't in my body anymore. Jennie Kim was gone, and I was floating, flying, falling …
And, gradually, I came back down.
One. Two. Three.
I counted every breath until my vision cleared sometime after fifty. I was laying face-up in the middle of a crumpled pile of black sheets, panting as the last tendrils of fire faded away.
Oh, Jennie, I thought as my eyes traced my still-splayed legs and the sad remains of Jisoo's white shift. You whore.
But the word didn't sting. I didn't feel as ashamed as I should have, and I figured that was the worst revelation of all.
Lisa had already moved and sat at end of the bed, feet on the floor, back facing me. That crisp, clean jacket hung off one shoulder, revealing a dark undershirt and broad, pale shoulders.
I gulped. Had I done that? I stared down at my hands, wondering if they were capable of clawing at a thousand dollar suit. While I may not have been the most materialistic of women even I could appreciate luxury when I saw it.
Tsk, tsk, Jennie, I scolded myself. You should ask her for the bill.
But before my mouth could even begin to open, she turned to face me.
Those eyes had returned to normal—that frighteningly cold, impassive gray. Her hands were at her throat, adjusting something that must have slipped free. Whatever it was flashed silver in the light.
A necklace?
The chain was delicately slender. As she tucked it back beneath her shirt I caught a glimpse of the talisman on the end of it; a small, silver cross. She had never struck me as the jewelry-wearing sort, and the sight conjured all kinds of nosy little thoughts before I could help it; a token from some past lover? A relic from her human life?
Regardless of the origin, I was depressed to find that yet another vampire myth had been proven false. The only lore I had left to cling to now was some rubbish about garlic.
Lisa didn't say anything—not that I really expect her to. Instead, she merely watched me, shrugging to adjust that black coat. It was a silent, chilling game, our staring contest, a game that no one won, in the end, because we both turned away at the same time, as if by some silent agreement.
"So …is this it then?" I sounded strangely impatient as I addressed the wall behind her head. Is this it then? Can I die now, and gracefully end my suffering?
She didn't answer.
I registered every rustle as she stood—to retrieve her pants I guessed. Retie her shoes. Fix that tricky collar so that her tie showed neatly in the middle. Perfect …
Minus the one drop of blood peeking at the corner of her mouth.
She had pierced my skin after all, I realized with a jolt. A tiny smear of red streaked across my chest, unnaturally vibrant. I glanced up to gauge her reaction, only she was already half-way across the room. I wasn't that surprised when, a second later, the door opened and closed.
She was gone—but it startled me just how much that simple fact stung, as I curled up in the middle of a strange bed, alone with my newest shame.
What now?
Should I stay? Go?
But the only thing I seemed to be capable of was squeezing my eyes shut, blocking out the sight of that room, and just …
Wait.
For sleep?
For Jisoo?
For a random burst of lightning to put me out of my misery?
Only God knew what.