Demi saw the amazement and awe in his gaze as he smiled, "Is there anything this magnificent in Paris?"
Then, he turned to her.
If it was possible, Andre's gaze's awe, adoration and amazement increased by a magnitude as he removed a curl from her vi...
This chapter is dark and might be triggering to some readers. It contains details of statutory rape, sexual assault and disassociation/derealization disorder. Read at your own risk.
Ada here. I just wanted to start this chapter by saying that I'm here. If you have gone through these things, are going through these things and just want to talk, please reach out. It can be about anything; books, movies, just reach out. I'm not a stranger to anxiety or depression and I know in those lonely moments, just having someone to talk to is amazing. I may not know the experience, but I am here. I love you all and I want everyone to know that every comment, every read matters to me. You matter to me.
Yeah, just wanted to get that off my chest real quick :)
(Writing this chapter with Say by Ruel playing in my earphones nearly broke me. I was out here crying at 2 in the morning, as literal pain was being typed unto my screen. I can't even begin to imagine what it's like to actually experience it)
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Give her space.
Give her space, Andre.
Just give her some space to think.
This was all his friends told him. But, why did he feel like all the space did was pull them further apart?
As he drove home in his GT150, his mind raced furiously, as nerves filled his entire stomach. He felt extremely nauseous and his heart kept dropping to his stomach only to return to his upper torso and twist wickedly.
Was this how unfiltered fear felt?
There were so many other things he could have said to her. He could have told her how the female population of Lincoln High had exaggerated his supposed body count, spreading rumours in locker rooms and sleepovers. He could have told her that "Andre's List of Achievements" was something David had blurted out, shitfaced at some stupid party and everyone, drunk, took it completely out of context. He could have told her that he had only slept with 22 people in his lifetime and that it was pure coincidence that all those names she mentioned in Life Studies had to be a fraction of those.
He could have told her of how he became sexually active too young at 13, his virginity taken by one of his mother's lewd friends, whose friendly touches while babysitting alone went too far when he was drunk on the hard alcohol she offered.
He could have told her he hated sex.
After all, every single one of those statements was true.
All but one.
Andre didn't hate sex, he just hated penetration specifically. Over the years he had learned how to please women first, learned what to do to make one moan and shake in ecstasy. After all, she was very particular about her pleasure. He had only ever stuck his dick in 3 people and two of them were currently serving time in a French federal prison for statutory rape and sexual assault and child pornography respectively.
