"You're going to let me fuck you like a good girl?" he asks and leans down, "Because you are, aren't you? A good girl?"
. . .
Elena Amoretto has always been smitten by the one and only, Ares Aetos. For three years, she's adored him from afar.
Admiri...
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The bursting pain in my head is what brings me back to consciousness.
The hotel-room ceiling meets my eyes when I open them. The room is bathed in the light of the moon, and when I look at the clock on the nightstand, I see it's four in the morning.
A body is curled into mine. Glancing down, I see Elena lying curled up beside me, her head resting on my chest and my arm wound tightly around her.
Exhaling, I let my head rest back and close my eyes. But the pounding in my head only gets worse.
Why did I drink that much last night?
I need pills. A glass of water. And my guitar, maybe.
Looking down at the girl clutching me, I try my best to disentangle myself from her without waking her up and succeed.
I stand up from the bed, the sudden movement causing my headache to worsen. Through the pain and slight nausea, I pat my pockets and feel that I've got my hotel card with me.
Casting Elena one last glance over my shoulder, I see that she's curled up entirely and clutching the bedsheets between her fingers, her full lips parted as she sleeps.
Tilting my head to the side, I study her features some more. She mindlessly rubs at her forehead, wiping away some of her scarce bangs. Her hair is scattered all over the pillows and her tongue comes out to lick her lips.
Shaking my head, I exit her room and close the door behind me.
My brain tries to scrape together the memories from last night. After receiving that message, I got drunk and stumbled my way to Elena's room, where I said some weird stuff and we both fell asleep.
I rake a hand through my hair and tug at the strands, holding back a groan at the memory of the message that caused it all.
I look for support against the wall and groan when the memory hits me. All at once, and it won't stop playing in my head.
"You're my brave god, aren't you?" mommy asks with a trembling smile. Tears are gathered in her eyes and all I want to do is find solace in her embrace.
But I've got to be strong.
She named me after the god of war, and I don't think he cries to his mommy as I want to do.
She named me after him because he's brave and fearless.
"I am," I whisper to her, fully convinced. "When I'm grown up and stronger, I'll kick daddy out of the house," I promise and take her hand, pressing a kiss on the back of it.
She frowns. "Why would you do that? I love your father, he's a good man."
"He makes you cry," I say and now it's my turn to frown, "daddy makes you cry, and I don't think a daddy should make any mommy cry."
