FERVOR

Ch. 27

Layla

Scorched. 

She couldn't feel the skin on her back anymore. Near-boiling water pelted over her neck and shoulder blades, leaving the layers in its wake utterly raw and yet she felt numb. 

Some might say she was overreacting. Hell, did she even have a reason to be so impeccably upset?

The thought was easily justified in Layla's, now fragile, mind. 

She achingly recalled the way he nearly forced her to dance. How his knuckles dug into her rib cage in the most horrid of ways. Then, how his damn grimy fingers had the audacity to brush her breasts. To top it off, his utter strength and anger as he pushed his hardening bulge against her unobliging  stomach. What made Layla burst into sobs was the recollection of his words - the power and dark promises behind his tongue. 

Her fourth round of sobs had been coming to an end when she finally decided that it would be best to evacuate his shower before she ran Christian dry of his entire hot water supply. 

That was an entirely different matter at hand - facing Christian. 

He had knocked on the bathroom door several times, asking if she was okay or needed anything, and each time, she lied. 

She wasn't sure if she was okay. Layla could barely understand the situation herself. How could just the glimpse of her perpetrator's dark eyes have set her off? 

The vast majority of her conscience was pissed, angry at him for being so indecent and forceful.

And the other half berated herself for letting it happen. 

She wished that she had slapped him that night, for causing so much grief and disgust. 

Layla hobbled out of the shower and over to the vanity, being mindful not to slip on the damp tile in her raging state. 

Christian had been so kind to leave her his clothes, and she was grateful that she didn't have to put her rain-soaked garments on. She did her best to rid her shaking body of water, flicking away the moisture with each pass of the towel, but she couldn't find it in herself to really care. She searched for her bra, unable to find it. Normally she would be embarrassed to let her breasts hang free, as they weren't exactly keen on holding their shape without the help of wire and material. But she still proceeded to pull on his sweater, thankful that it was quite thick. Then came his boxers. He had leant her a pair of his own blue underwear that fit snuggly around her hips and thighs. She had only the pair of grey sweatpants left to pull on when Christian knocked again. 

"Layla? Sweetheart, are you alright? The water isn't running anymore, so I assume you're out of the shower, yes?" The pure worry and care in his voice nearly moved Layla to tears in her unusually emotional state.

"U-um, yes, sorry. I'm just g-getting dressed," she managed to respond, though her vocal cords had been hoarse from crying. 

"Alright. There's no rush. I ordered some takeaway. I hope you're hungry. It should be here any minute now, if you'd like to meet me in the living ro-," his sentence was cut short when Layla pulled his bathroom door open. 

She watched his eyes take in her appearance as steam smothered the both of them. No words were exchanged as the doorbell rang, signaling the delivery of their food. He left a warm hand between her shoulder blades, guiding her into a sitting position on his bed while he tended to the food. 

She wasn't sure how much time had elapsed when he walked back into his room with a big box and two water bottles. Her mind was in the gutter, but she could hardly miss his sweet smile and the scrumptious smell of pizza as he placed himself right next to her. 

She watched as Christian flipped the box open, revealing golden, bubbling cheese and wonderfully oozing sauce. Her eyes followed his hands to perhaps the most enticing slice. Layla stared, mesmerized at his fingers pulling gently on the crust to break it free from it's spot. Anticipating it to be thrust into his mouth, she was shocked when he leaned over, aligning the tip of the pizza to her own lips. She looked at him sideways and reached her hand up, to accept his slice. But much to her surprise, he only shook his head.

"Eat," a gentle command breaking their streak of silence. 

It was strange, in a romantic sort of way. He attended to her so delicately, not stopping for a bite himself. It was only on her third slice when he began to tense up.

"I heard you crying in the shower," a statement, yes, but an undertone of sadness laced through his words.  

What Layla didn't know was that despite Christian closing the door, he remained present on the other side. He'd heard her sobs. It puzzled him to think about the reason why she was so upset, but he wanted to be respectful of her space. 

He touched her face when the traitorous tears sprung into her eyes.  

"I just feel so... so angry!" She wanted to be able to explain, but the words weren't coming so easily. "I wish I had punched him square in the jaw! He had no right!" 

Christian wasn't quite following. 

"Who, love? Tell me why you are so upset," he pleaded with her. 

She took one look at him, trying not to fly off the handle bars when she tried to remember what name Christian had called him. 

"T-That man who was here! Brenden or Hayden, or something!" Layla pulled at her roots when the name wasn't coming to her. 

"Brayden...," a light seemed go off in Christian's head when he saw the tears sliding down her puffy cheeks. "Layla, what's he got to do with this?" He spoke, almost afraid to hear her reply. 

"He's the one from that party! The one w-who forced me to dance with him and said such disgusting things to me with all those people around! I was so scared, Christian.  I thought he was going to... I don't know what he would have done. And I didn't do anything about it!" 

That was the last straw, for both of them. 

She broke into another fit of tears, covering her eyes and weeping into her lap. His hands were quick to land on her. He pulled her out of her lap and propelled her shaking form into his chest, encasing her with his protective embrace. 

Christian rocked her gently, trying to convey his support. And much to his delight, her tears continued to subside with passing minutes. 

But even with the last of the tears blurring her vision, she noticed a tick in his jaw. 

The flexing of his palms. 

He placed his hands on either side of her head, drawing her face back so that he may look at her. 

"I make this promise to you, sweetheart. That bastard will never hurt you again." His eyes bounced between her red ones, anchoring the truth in his statement. Meanwhile, he sealed his promise with a firm kiss to her lips, stroking her hair as she softened against his warmth. 

 "He'll die before thinking he can touch you again."

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Hi everyone!

I hope you are all thriving in this New Year! Cheers to 2021! Things have been so busy, but I haven't missed any of your plentiful support and sweet words! I so appreciate all the love I've received on here! I so hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter! It's rather emotional but hey, we're in Capricorn season for god's sake, so a little extra crying won't do any harm lol. ( I love you Capricorn people, don't think for a second that I don't!) Anyways, for anyone who is wondering, I'm now doing Microblading and Microshading for eyebrows! I was supposed to start my tattoo apprenticeship, but that got delayed due to covid, so it has been postponed until the spring, but that's okay. I'm still working my dream job(s) and I'm so thankful. If anyone wants their brows done, message me lol! Until next time! And as always, thank you for reading! I appreciate all of your votes and comments <3

Xoxo,
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