⚠️Mature and Explicit content⚠️
"This is wrong ,Tristan" I breathed out, putting my thumb on his lips.
"I don't know what you're saying, Vera. Nothing has ever felt this right." He said, before smashing his lips on mine in the most devouring way.
*...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I've been lying awake in bed for an hour. I had to go to work in a few more, but I was thinking about Tristan. Also, I was thinking that I's have to go to the room to get dressed because I moved all my things to his room. I just wanted to know if he was okay. Then, I wanted to know what caused him to be like that because I was sure as hell it wasn't because of work.
Fuck it.
I shrugged the covers off and got out of the room. When I was standing outside the door, I knocked but he didn't answer.
I didn't wait another second before I opened it and stepped inside looking for him. I looked around but he wasn't there. The bed was made, so he probably didn't sleep here. Or didn't sleep at all.
The sound of running water was coming from the bathroom. I once again knocked but when no answer came I opened it.
He was sitting, clothes still on, with his head between his knees. His arms were crossed over them and the fog around him made it hard to see anything else.
"Tristan," I called for him and wasn't expecting an answer.
When I tried to get inside the shower, I hissed at the hot water. It was blazing. And the fact that he was sitting under it for god knows how much made me rush down in front of him. The water ran down my hair and body, but I didn't care.
"Tristan!" I shook his shoulders. He lifted his head and looked at me, or didn't.
It wasn't him. These red sad eyes weren't his. I quickly closed the water and held his face between my hands. I decided I wasn't going to try to get him to talk to me, so I got up with a good amount of effort due to the extra weight and placed my arms under his to pull him up.
I was glad he was aware enough to stand on his own because I was sure I wouldn't be able to carry him or something. I held his hand and pulled him to the bed until he was sitting on it. I quickly grabbed some dry clothes from his closet and returned to him. I started unbuttoning his shirt but came to a halt when I saw his stomach.
There was a nasty bruise on the side of his stomach. It was big and purple with yellow spots. I kept staring at it for a while and when I ran my fingers above it, he hissed silently.
I refrained from asking again even though I wanted to kill whoever did that.
The next few minutes were of him silently moving to give me space so I could get him inside the clothes. He didn't utter a single word until I finished.
"You flinched. You thought...you thought I was going to hit you. You were afraid of me. How am I any better than my father?" His voice broke saying the words. I was shaking my head through it all.
"It was an act of impulse. It had nothing to do with you, Tristan." I took a deep breath closing my eyes for a second. "Nate hit me once. I had a bruise on my arm for a week. It wasn't you I flinched from. It was the memory. You are nothing like your father. You didn't hit me." I grabbed hold of his hands.
