35- kill

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Song- Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

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I'm woken up by harsh daylight piercing through the open door of the room that I'm lying in. Peeling open a tired eye, I look up to see the silhouette of Olly as he comes bounding in through the open door.

I look around the room, trying to gather my surroundings in my dazed state after abruptly being woken up. I look down to see a soft blanket laid across my body. This is the blanket that was laying on my bed out of my room upstairs, I don't know how it got here.

It takes a couple of moments for me to understand what's going on, my brain lagging as I try to remember how I got into this situation and why I'm currently lying in the 'sex dungeon' under a blanket.

I lift up the blanket slightly, unveiling my bare skin apart from my underwear. Oh no, oh fuck.

Everything comes piling back and I feel as my face burns red, the memories dropping down onto me as each second ticks by. I peer back up to Olly sheepishly, putting the cover back over my basically naked body, and see as he giddily springs to the edge of the sofa.

"So?" he asks excitedly, practically throwing himself onto the sofa beside me and I cringe at the memory throwing itself around in my head of Leonardo telling me to look at him from that exact spot.

"So what?" I mumble back innocently, feeling the effects of a slight hangover mixed with embarrassment of last night thumping into my head painfully.

"Don't play dumb, Farrah," Olly raises an eyebrow sternly.

"You need to elaborate," I shrug tiredly.

"Did you get laid last night?" he finally asks, breaking the thin layer of his patience.

"Um, yes," I mutter back timidly.

The truth is far from what he must be thinking right now. He probably saw me leave the club with that hot guy named Calum, he probably thinks I had sex with Calum. But, obviously, that's not the truth and I'm dreading having to break it to him.

"Yes! Finally! You needed that, you were way too stressed and anxious, maybe you can relax now," he says, grinning widely.

"Yeah, maybe," I mumble, directing my eyes to my black dress which is piled on the floor in a messy heap.

The images of Leonardo instantly flipping it off of my body flashes through my head and I gulp.

Is it bad that I'm left craving more? I never thought I would've said this, but last night was meant to be a one time thing where it just solved some of my pent up frustration, but instead it felt like a teaser or trailer for the future.

I guess that was the breaking point, before I had been tiptoeing slowly in order to reach the deeper water, but last night I just dived head first into the cold depths. I guess there's only one way to find out if I will end up drowning, only one way to find out if Leonardo will end up saving me or pushing me under.

"Farrah, you don't look too good for someone who's meant to have a post-sex glow about them," he worries, concern lacing his face.

I feel bad not telling him the truth, but I haven't even come to grips with it yet myself. I'll tell him the truth later today, I just need some air to breathe first. It's not like I've lied to him, it's not like he asked me directly if I had sex with Leonardo and I said no. He just asked if I got laid, and I answered simply with the truth.

"I'm fine," I shake my head, chucking away any negative thoughts, "Just a bit hungover, that's all, rough night."

Olly's eyebrows shoot up in relation to my last couple of words, letting a smirk toy at his lips, "I bet."

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