So... i'm back. After ages and ages and ages.
This is something i loved writing. Tell me what you guys think.
PS- Its a series of flashbacks. The line separates the flashbacks, and the entire thing is written in Lily's POV.
"She was a drug to take in moderation"- atticus
"Go away Potter."
The bane of her existence laughed as he used the full length of his six-foot frame to tower over her.
"What if I don't, Evans? What're you going to do? Run to McGonagall and tell her your insipid stories?"
"You fucking toe-rag. You really are a miserable piece of shit, aren't you?"
He bowed in mock gratitude. "Fucking, yes. I like to do that a lot. Toe-rag is debatable." He frowned thoughtfully, making her all too aware of the cutting words that fell from his lips next. "I don't think the teachers would trust you anymore when you complain that James Potter stood next to you. Such a gruesome crime, isn't it? Worthy of being sent to Azkaban."
She turned on her heel, determined not to break first. The bullying never stopped. Not since she had first challenged his so-called authority that day by the Black Lake.
"Aw, are you going, Evans? Have I scared the prissy miss goody two-shoes?"
He was the only one capable of worming his way under her skin. She was known for her limitless patience throughout the school. She never quite got as mad as she did with James fucking Potter. For one, he was popular. Two, he had the best grades in school. She studied her ass off, and yet he was the one who got perfect scores, her always coming in a close second. And he never failed to use it in his jibes. He had relentlessly made her life a living hell by turning virtually the entire Hogwarts population against her. She had to suffer it all. The pranks, the taunts, the jeers, the people laughing behind her back. He had turned her into a public target. All she wanted was to be left alone, and she had always been the quiet, meek little mouse that scurried with her head hung from place to place. She had had enough of his incessant torment, and she had been sick of his wayward, condescending self.
The jab was the last straw. She flung out her wand as she fired a body binding jinx on him. She'd never reacted before. Perhaps that was why she'd gotten a hit at him in the first place. Hogwarts' best dueler would not be restrained so easily. He'd smirked, then, as she'd launched a barrage of insults after she was done hexing his lackeys. Never mind the detentions shed get for this. It was all worth the feeling as she punched his smug face.
He spat blood. "Resorting to violence, Evans? The teachers would be disappointed."
"Resorting to degrading insults, Potter? You'd get expelled."
He'd looked her up and down in a slow, objectifying way. "Well, well. Looks like Evans has some fire after all."
"And turns out you're the same dick I always thought you were."
He'd smiled.
And she'd exploded. "What is wrong with you? I have ignored the fact you've made me a public target. I have borne everything in silence. Yet you stalk up to me with your STUPID FUCKING SWAGGER and throw comments and jeers. What the FUCK do you think I'm going to do? Let me get it into your thick head, which by the way does not contain A SINGLE functioning brain cell. I'M NOT ONE OF YOUR LACKEYS. I will never, EVER, be one of your fan club. You need to stop harassing me, or I swear I will make you regret it. I do not know why you enjoy tormenting me. I have accepted I will never understand why. Get this past that ego. I do not like you. You. Need. To. Leave. Me. Alone."
And then she'd stalked off. That had been the start of their active rivalry. She'd hated him, and he'd hated her right back.
He seemed even more determined to make her life a living hell after that.
Lily sighed as she turned the corridor. The teachers had rushed through syllabus the whole day. She had understood nothing. It meant another sleepless night if she wanted to keep up her grades. Her eyes were sunken, her hands tired of holding up the stack of books. She had dark bags above her cheeks, and her face was getting paler by the day.
The responsibilities were weighing on her. Getting heavier to hold. Each day was harder to get through. It simply wasn't easy anymore. Perhaps it was the impending war. Perhaps it was simply her. She'd stopped finding the inherent pleasure in her position as prefect, had stopped feeling the pride and confidence she felt while overseeing responsibilities. She'd just... stopped. As if that was simply it. The wizarding world had given a new meaning to terms like 'bully', 'torture' and 'evil'. Especially with magic in the mix.
She dropped her eyes to the floor and huddled into herself as she walked past the group of Slytherins. She would have passed them with her head held high on any ordinary day, daring them to provoke her. They would have. Ten against one weren't very good chances. She'd do it and damn the consequences. But today wasn't ordinary. She did not have the strength to do anything today. And oddly enough, on the very day she chose to make herself as small as possible, fate chose to damn her in the twenty seconds it took to cross the tiny corridor. Almost punishing her for not standing up and fighting. She had almost made it to the end of the corridor when one of the boys turned. And then he looked straight at her. She knew she was done for. Being of dirty blood in the school made you even more of a target. She'd dropped her books and pulled out her wand as soon as she'd felt their glares. They'd fired three jinxes in succession. She'd put up a brave fight. She had three out of the ten Slytherins unconscious when they'd immobilized her.
One with a pasty face snarled at her. "Quite the troublemaker, isn't she?"
"Not half-bad looking though. She's got a bit of meat on her." They'd nudged her with their feet.
Another got right in her face, until her was so close she could feel his breath raking across her neck, slithering down her robes. "We're going to make you pay, Mudblood."
They had toyed with her for the next couple minutes, and she had prayed and wished and hoped that somebody would see them. That was the first time she'd been a victim of the Cruciatus curse. Five minutes. Five. Whole. Minutes. Each second had been counted in agony, each one passing slower than the last. She thought they'd let her go after the mid numbing, excruciating pain, but nothing could have compared to the cold dread that wracked her frame when they'd started undressing her.
Her luck turned even worse as James Potter found them and snuck his way through to the center of the group to smirk down at her. She'd always known he was scum. She'd always known he was a bastard. She knew he protected his own with the fierceness of a dragon hoarding its treasure. She knew he stood up for his morals. But... she never knew he associated with Slytherins. Never that he was a supporter of Voldemort. He was probably the only Gryffindor who did. You couldn't sink lower than that.
He smirked down at her. But, oddly enough, she'd seen something the equivalent of pity in his eyes. She'd closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable torture. She'd heard a scuffle. And then she'd opened them to find James Potter above her, releasing her from the curse. He'd held out a hand, a silent promise, his eyes gleaming with the silent invitation to fight, to stand up. No trace of the usual malice. The sadistic light in his eye had gone out, and for once, his face was wholly serious. She'd only taken it because of the raw determination she'd found in his eyes. Determination to win. She'd gotten up, her body throbbed with pain, but she'd still fought alongside him, back to back. The Slytherins had eventually scurried, not finding black eyes and painful jinxes worth their time, and she'd blacked out.
She'd found herself in the hospital wing later, with no recollection of how she'd got there or what had transpired between.
He cut back on his daily torment after she had recovered well enough to resume her classes. She almost never saw him. She always found her mind drifting towards him on cold, lonely afternoons. Questioning what she knew about him. Wondering if it was all a facade.
Then they'd entered seventh year and they both became heads. She'd dreaded the day they'd have to work together, but he'd been surprisingly nice, and they'd struck up a tentative truce on the train to Hogwarts.
And then she started to get to know an entirely different side to him. They started to become friends, and she'd started to realize why he was so well liked. It was... difficult. At first. She discovered how brilliant he was when he put his mind to something. That he could charm the pants off anyone if he actually tried. Their relationship consisted of awkward thank you's, the occasional comeback or two, pranks, and something that could even be classified as friendly bantering. They only associated on business matters though. She started to tolerate him, maybe even enjoy his company.
And it was all she could do to hope he felt the same.
"Owww..." Lily brought up a hand to her throbbing head. The world, curiously, was still hazy. And spinning... As she tried to concentrate through her head's fog, a smirking face same into view. A face ... with hazel eyes? Pretty hazel eyes ...
Her eyes widened as the realization struck. Nope, wrong, wrong train of thought! Shit! "Potter? Where ... where am I?"
Gentle hands placed hers on a soft, orange surface. "The couch, Lily, the common room couch."
"Huh?"
"How are you feeling?"
"What?"
"How are you feeling?"
Lily groaned as her head throbbed. "Like complete and utter shit."
"Lily! Focus! How many fingers am I holding up?"
She squinted. "Umm, three?"
Potter thoughtfully scratched the back of his head. "I mean…it's good you can speak and understand me coherently, but I'm not so sure about your vision." Then he handed her a blue vial. "Here, drink this. You'll feel better."
In her muddled brain, Lily hadn't fully registered the situation. "Potter! If this is a prank... whatever this ... is..."
Her brow furrowed, "Ten points from ... Stop!"
Her clumsy attempts to stop him were of no use as he laughed and swiftly blocked her nose with his hand. The drink was poured down her mouth with the other.
Spluttering, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glared at him. "Happy now? Had your fun?"
"Awww, Lily. Its adorable you think I'm going to do something inapp- "
"Shut up."
He smirked down at her, and gradually she came to the realization she could see more clearly. The fog was fading ... gradually. More like at an infinitesimally small pace. She grudgingly looked at him, "Thanks."
He smiled at her. "You're welcome, Lily. Happy to be of help." The smile lasted for no more than thirty seconds, and then he turned to go.
"Hey, wait..."
He swiveled in surprise. She had to admit, she was too. It wasn't every day that Lily Evans called for James Potter to stay back.
Lily half scowled, half groaned, as if she was in pain to admit it. "I... need help getting up."
If possible, his smile grew even wider, and a glimmer of mischief danced in his twinkling eyes. She looked away. Stupid Potter. He was taking pleasure in her misery, as usual. Slowly, oh-so-agonizingly, she stood up with his help. If possible, her throbbing headache increased ten-fold. He smiled at her again, his mouth crinkling crookedly, "Aw, its okay. Drunk people rarely survive without help."
Then he suddenly let her go. "Of course! That's what I forgot! Hold on, Evans."
She swayed. Wait. What? She was drunk? Unable to maintain her balance, and unable to find something to hold on to, she fell. She closed her eyes, bracing for the impact… that never came. Instead, she found herself in the arms of a certain messy haired individual smirking down at her. "I didn't realize it had come to the point where we were doing trust falls."
Lily scowled, then sighed. "Sorry. It's just ... my head's so messy." She made to get up at the same time he made to pull her up. Both of them immediately crashed together, sending the house heads tumbling to the floor. Lily ended up on top of Potter. Her brain vaguely registered a, "Well, shit", from him before she realized their proximity. She was less than an inch from his face, surprised hazel eyes blinking up at her before they darkened.
He cleared his throat and said something, but it all seemed a bit too blurry. She didn't pay attention to it at all. Something she also definitely did not pay attention to, was how close they were getting. Her hair, messy and unkept, formed a red halo around both their faces as he gradually became the only thing she could focus on. His hazel eyes were swimming with emotions, beautiful in the sunlight, colors of beautiful hues shimmering and sparkling, inevitably darkening again. How had she not noticed how beautiful his eyes were? Amber was her new favorite color. And suddenly, they were kissing. It was a gentle kiss, nothing too fancy. She was just vaguely aware of a very pleasant sensation with a hint of moisture across her lips, suckling with just the right amount of pressure that sent tingles of pleasure down her spine. She bit his lip slightly as she tilted her head to have better access and ran her hands through his annoyingly messy hair. He was conflicted, she realized. She kissed him harder, attacked him as she tried to express her feelings through the kiss.
She didn't really know what she was doing, but she knew she liked it. He groaned, and before she knew it, he flipped their positions. And then he was straddling her, both his hands on her cheeks as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Intoxicated as she was, it seemed as though invisible shockwaves wracked her body and every nerve ending was lit alight as she kissed him back with equal force. She was floating, floating, floating, in a sea of happiness. This could all too soon become an addiction. They were finally, finally kissing, and then he was pulling back, wiping his mouth as a breathless, "Not like this." escaped his absolutely perfect lips. Merlin, he knew how to kiss. Gasping for air, she had a millisecond of a glimpse at his tortured face before he was backing away to the far end of the room.
Then she groaned again. Her head was spinning. Cradling herself as she rolled over to the side, her last vision was of worried hazel eyes looking her over and pouring a brown drink into her mouth.
There was a ball of conflicting emotions in Lily's stomach. It felt like… anticipation. Nerves. Excitement. Stress. And she hadn't the foggiest idea why. And the ball intensified when she saw the irking face of one messy haired, bespectacled teen. Although the smirk got slightly less pronounced when their eyes met. She dragged her eyes away, to anything, anyone that wasn't him. The very atmosphere felt… strained. She cleared her throat. It was easygoing the day before. So why was it so difficult now? They had just started getting along as heads. It wasn't as if anything weird had happened between them. Why was Pot- James acting so shifty? He kept glancing at her. The couple times she did meet his eyes, she found him looking at her with an intensity that made her decidedly uncomfortable. The knot in her chest kept expanding. Her heart was racing, and on the occasions they accidentally touched, she yanked her hands away as if she was burned. Because suddenly, she had electricity racing up her arms. The very air was sizzling with tension as they brewed Devil's breath. They had to talk. Today.
As the day progressed, Lily found she didn't have the courage to. Her cowardice lasted her throughout the week, and by the weekend, the tension had reached a point that had Marley and Dorcas locking her in their dorm her one day to demand what the fuck had happened.
She did finally manage to corner him in an abandoned classroom one fine day. After seemingly years of avoiding him, safe to say she was surprised by herself as well. She was pretty confident too, right up till the moment they were together in the empty classroom.
She took a deep breath as she steeled herself. "We need to talk, James."
He looked straight at her as he narrowed his eyes. "Oh, now you want to talk, Lily? You've been avoiding me for the past week!"
She faltered. "I don't know, you've been acting really weird. What am I supposed to say? I'm getting a lot of mixed signals."
He laughed darkly as he ran a hand through his hair. "You want to talk about mixed signals? Let's start with the ones you've been sending me. What am I, a bloody toy to play with and then throw around when you feel like it?"
"What the actual fuck? No, hold on. We were FINE a week ago. You and I were getting along as heads. I didn't do anything. If this is you just being an immature prat, you can very well stop because I'm not going to buy your act. We were fine, and then you start acting weird out of nowhere! Now you're blaming this on me? Are you kidding me?"
His mouth opened in a harsh snarl as he made to reply before his eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, no. I- no, you don't… remember? Anything?"
She took a deep breath "Remember what? This is what I have to talk to you about. Did something happen?" She looked at his disheveled state as she bit her lip. "Are you… okay? James, let me help. I might not be Black or Remus, but I want to help. I'm your friend."
James looked like a madman as he ran his hands through his hair. Once, twice, thrice. He was muttering to himself. And then it was all over. His eyes cleared and he swallowed. "It's nothing. Thanks though." And then he brushed past her as he left.
He'd always acted weirdly after that. They gradually became friends, though. She found she wanted to spend time with him.
He sobbed, hands in his hair. He was crouched when she saw him, knees up against his head, leaning against the cold tile. Ragged, desperate breaths were dragged into a heaving body. Lily rushed to his side. He was bleeding. Long, jagged scars ran down his abdomen, the blood dripping out onto the carpet. He didn't move. Didn't do anything to help himself.
"You crazy piece of shit." Lily took his face in her hands as she barely held herself together. The world was tilting. "I know you're suicidal, everyone is. But right now, you need to focus, James."
His head lolled in her hands. He was losing consciousness. Tears ran down his cheeks as he cried his heart out. "Look at me. James. Look at me. You are going to survive this. We're going to get you through. Listen to me. You're not going anywhere, okay?"
She took a deep breath and set to work. They were a long way from the Hospital ward. He was losing precious time. It would take too much time to get him to Pomfrey. She had to stop the bleeding. Lily sprinted towards her emergency stash of medical supplies. Dittany. Healing salve. Cleaning ointment. No bandages. She raced towards the unconscious boy, ripping her school uniform into long pieces of cloth. Cleaning the wound was a must, but as she set to work, it only seemed to make the bleeding worse. He was going to die of blood loss if she couldn't stop the flow. She wasn't certified to use any of the medicines, and if she sealed the wound without proper cleaning, he would get an infection. He didn't really look like he wanted to live at the moment. She muttered a quick blood replenishing charm. It'd give her another two minutes. She wrapped the bandages around his stomach and chest. To her disappointment, red stained the cloth almost as soon as she'd put it on. She took a deep breath, steeled herself. Levitating him, she sprinted. Light and swift, she raced across the corridors as she covered as much distance as she could. Third floor corridor….. second floor corridor… first floor corridor. Now all she had to do was get to the Hospital Wing. There… a hundred meters. She burst through the doors in a frenzy as Madam Pomfrey rushed to her side. James wasn't conscious. He was hanging on by a thread. Barely.
She skipped all her classes the next day. He could've died. Remus, Sirius and Peter had insisted on staying as well, but they had been called by McGonagall for god-knows-what. Lily sat by his side throughout the morning. She couldn't have been anywhere else. And when he finally opened his eyes, his weary, tired eyes, she threw her arms around him. She held his head in her hands as she leaned her forehead against his.
"You are NOT going to leave me like that, okay? Never again."
She sighed against his unintelligible murmurs. She didn't know why she was this scared of losing him. She just was. He filled this inexplicable void inside her, he helped her feel whole. She couldn't imagine her life without him. There were times she couldn't believe how well they fit together. He was there for her, supported her, made her laugh. She never wanted to let him go. He had wormed his way persistently into her heart, and now that he had, she wasn't about to let him go anytime soon. James had become a friend she'd be willing to die for. Just like Dorcas and Marley. Like Remus. Like Colin.
She let herself sink into his embrace, took comfort in the fact that he was there with her, around her. A silent promise. "You're not going to die on my watch. Never again"
She had gotten to know Colin quite well by that time, and they'd progressed to a relationship. She saw James as rarely as a blue moon throughout the five months they were dating. He'd always be scowling and muttering.
She was in a corridor at night the day before her breakup. Everyone had gone to Hogsmeade. And then she found herself against a wall, caged in with arms on both sides of her head. Breathtaking hazel eyes bored into her own, and Lily couldn't help but shiver. His breath reeked of alcohol. Tingles were running down her arms and legs, and she was a hundred percent sure her breath wasn't catching because it was cold. Her knees were weak, and she couldn't pull her eyes away from his. As hazel raked over green, they took her captive, trapped her in something she couldn't possibly hope to escape. And she was absolutely helpless to stop him as his face came incredibly closer. And only when those eyes flicked down to her lips, was she able to wrench her eyes heartbreakingly away from his own. She pushed him back, wrapped her cloak tighter around her body, and fled.
Nothing, it was nothing like any damn thing she had ever felt for any guy. And the next day, she didn't even try to stop herself as her eyes desperately sought his amongst the throng of the students. She found him staring right back at her. As if he felt it too. Intrusive thoughts flooded her brain in abundance. She wanted to kiss him. Hold him. Do too many damn things she wouldn't ever have the courage to do. What could she really do? Tell him she might possibly like him after years of rejection?
Her head spun. She was so confused. She was so sure of herself before. She knew what she wanted to do, how to do it. Her life had direction. Meaning. And suddenly, it was all gone. Now all she knew were the conflicting feelings tugging her apart, and a tight ball of anxiety that had seemed to take up permanent lodging in her heart. It grew with every passing day. She had been so immersed in work and so caught up in the drama of life, she had forgotten herself. She no longer knew where she belonged. She was an oddball, neither fitting in the wizarding world, her dirty blood wrecking her credibility and worth to pieces, nor in her human one, where she was rejected for being a witch in the first place. She was drifting. She was scared, and anxious, and a million other things she didn't know how to describe in the first place.
And then were her feelings. Things she was sure shouldn't have possibly existed. There were days spent brooding and delving into the never ending mental mess that had become responsible for the rollercoaster of a ride she had been travelling, sleepless nights spent convincing herself that the flutters and nerves, shouldn't, couldn't possibly mean anything. There was a tension in the air that hadn't been there before, and she wanted to rip her hair and turn her skin inside out if it meant it would go away. Stolen glances, lingering touches, and weird moments she knew had to mean something else. There were times she found herself unable to pull away, too many times she had to consciously resist because they always seemed to be drifting closer. Their interactions had taken on an entirely new meaning, as if there was an invisible weight in the air, crushing her lungs so she was always short of breath and wiping her mind of coherent thought. The air zinged with electricity, and every encounter seemed to up the tension, putting a pressure surely no human could survive under. She was bound to snap. Either her or him, or it would surely mean the death of them both.
The door to the common room barged open. The last person she wanted to see walked right in, his blazing eyes scanning the empty room till they landed on her. He stalked towards her, short, angry steps.
He took a deep breath before speaking. She had gotten on his nerves. Good. His tone was casual, conversational even. Too bad she already could recognize the simmering, barely contained rage under the subtle lilt of his voice. "Wake up on the wrong side of your bed, Evans?"
She scoffed. "What's it to you?"
He ran a hand through his hair, "Come on, Lily. You've been irritable for the past week. I thought it was a fight, or a breakup or something, but this is getting a bit much."
"Just. Fucking. Go."
He snarled. "No"
"GO, James"
"No. You fucking snapped at McGonagall. Minne. The person you respect more than anyone on this planet." He was pacing now, getting agitated. "You've been like this for a week, snapping at everyone, blowing up in fits of rage. You've been too impulsive and now you're emotionless. Absolutely cold. What happened? I've consoled THREE first years who were reduced to tears because of you since morning, not to mention the countless more this past week. You've driven Marley and Dorcas out of their own damn dorm. What the actual fuck, Evans? And every time someone tries to talk to you about it, you snap and then close up? Seriously?"
She didn't reply.
"Okay, look, I am trying to remain calm here. You clearly have a problem, and I originally wouldn't interfere, but it's affecting everyone around you. You're upset as well, so would you already just spill instead of putting up your damn walls? I am trying to help."
"Since when did you care? The great James Potter, reduced to following the rules for once. Your younger self would be disappointed."
He didn't respond to the jab. She wanted familiar territory. She wanted to be back in the space where they fought and lashed out at each other. That she was comfortable with. That she knew how to navigate. This was new, and horrible, and confusing. "Go, Potter, before I do."
His voice rose, he was shouting now. "Fine, I'll go. But I'm done. I'm fucking done with all of this shit. I've had enough of you yelling at me, or anybody else for that matter. I am sick and tired of dealing with your crappy mood, day in and day out, so from now on, you can fuck off." His voice had hardened now, into a cold, harsh tone. And then he turned on his heel.
Cold, salty tears dripped down her cheeks. She bit her lip, determined to not make a sound, to not break before he did. And she didn't make a noise. You could have heard a pin drop. But then he sighed, turned back around and came up beside her small nook. They both knew he couldn't leave. Not when she was crying. She was curled up with her knees as close to her chest as possible. She felt alone. And then all she knew was the sensation of being enveloped in delicious, comforting warmth. They stayed there for what seemed like centuries as she cried her heart out on his shoulder. She sniffled. And then it all came spilling out.
"I don't know what to do anymore. I had a home before. I belonged somewhere. Now I'm lost. I don't know what to do, I don't know who I am, where I belong. I'm floating aimlessly. No, I'm drowning aimlessly. My life doesn't have direction anymore, it doesn't have any meaning. I don't know what I'm going to do, I don't know anything for sure. I belong neither in the wizarding nor in the Muggle world. I've lost myself. And I don't know how to find me anymore." Another sob cracked her voice as she spoke. She buried deeper into his shoulder.
He whispered soothing nothings as he calmly rubbed up and down her back. "Hey. We'll figure this out, okay? Everyone is lost at some point in their lives. It's okay to be lost. You'll figure it out. I'm right here with you."
That day had been a pivotal point in her life. It seemed she was even more lost now. They had talked, and then he had helped her back to her dorm. He had tucked her into bed, and then had been by her side as she survived the next day. She had apologized to everyone, and that was that. It all seemed back to normal. Except one thing that just wasn't anymore. One thing that couldn't go back to normal.
She'd longed for him after that. Pined and hoped and prayed for whatever… this was. She'd never had the courage to bring up their almost-kiss. Or her feelings. He'd probably forgotten. He was drunk, and it was only a brief encounter. She always found herself gravitating towards him after than. It took effort to try and stay within the bounds of friendship. She wanted to do too many damn things. Too much.
It had been the day before her birthday when he snapped, like a rubber band bound to break.
James snarled at her as he backed her into a corner.
"You have NO fucking idea what you've been doing to me Evans, do you? All the fucking moments you drag your eyes away when I catch you staring at me, all the damn times you stare at my lips during our conversations. Every time I catch you looking at me, you have something in your eyes. You know what that something tells me, Evans? That something tells me you want to fuck me. That something is not a platonic something, and then you get on your damn high horse whenever I try to talk to you about it." He laughed darkly. "The icing on the cake is the almost kiss. If you don't like me, fucking SAY IT! You've been fucking driving me mad because I have to stay up every damn night with the kiss haunting me, wondering, oh wait, does she actually like me? Or am I just a fucking game to her?"
She raised her hands in surrender "James, I thin-"
"No way in hell. We are not going to 'talk' about it. I've had enough of this bullshit. You know what I realized? I don't really care anymore. I'm going to give you a taste of what it's been like for me for the past goddamn MONTH."
And then he took her face in his hands and kissed her. He wasn't gentle or comforting. He slammed her back against the wall as he attacked her mouth. And before she knew it, he was trailing kisses down her collarbone as she gasped and let out breathy whimpers at the onslaught. What else could she do but try to keep standing as he ravaged her body? He held her up with an arm around her waist, pulling her to his chest and refusing to let go. She was drowning in the sensations before it was all over. He abruptly pulled away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he looked at her with something she was too confused to decipher. And then he stalked away, disappearing from her sight as he rounded a bend. And by the time she raced after him, to offer some semblance of an explanation, he was gone.
Don't kill me for leaving off, please.
Cheerios guys