𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐉𝐉 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

01. getting my tits out.

O N E
getting my tits out.

Sober Otto always had dreamless sleep, she would fall asleep and the next thing she knew it was the morning and she was awake. It was almost like time travelling.

But inebriated Otto was another story, whether it be LSD, xanax or weed she always had vivid dreams. Sometimes they'd be her with her tits out, riding on the back of a three-leged horse through Ancient Rome, and sometimes it'd be something simple, and far more terrifying, like her having sex with JJ Maybank.

Only sometimes dreams - or nightmares - are just a mirror of what is happening in real life.

Although the tits out, three legged horse, Ancient Rome dream was sadly not a mirror of her life.

But as she awoke she was reminded that some dreams hold truths in them.

Stirring in her sleep Otto felt something warm and weighted slung over her back, rolling over to smoosh her face further into the mattress she quickly noticed how lumpy it was.

Her mattress was anything but lumpy.

That pulled her out of her sleep a little, then she noticed that the room stunk of weed.

She didn't smoke weed at her house.

And what finally woke her up completely was the incessant, inhumanly loud snoring.

She slept alone.

Her eyes opened, her heart speeding up quickly, she turned her head toward the noise and saw a blonde boy. His mouth opened slightly and his eyes closed lightly, with the orange glow of the morning sun he looked radiant - not that she'd admit that, - but the realisation quickly came to her that it wasn't just any boy.

No. That was JJ Maybank.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no." She breathed out each word in quick succession.

This wasn't happening. She refused to believe this was happening.

How the fuck did this happen? She was meant to pop a few pills, chill out at her spot and have a night she wouldn't remember.

To be fair, she did pop a few pills, chill out at her spot, and she couldn't remember anything that happened the night prior. The only deviation from the plan was that her spot, wasn't just her spot, it also happened to be his spot.

The last thing she wanted to do was wake him up, but the first thing she wanted to do was get the fuck out of there so she lifted what she realised was his arm off her back very gently. Once she was freed she sat up and got off the painfully squeaky bed. One of the coils that pocked through the mattress and stabbed her leg a little and she let out a strained curse.

Standing up she looked at a cracked mirror that stood in front of her leaning a against the wall, the outside was covered in stickers and it looked like someone had ripped if off the wall behind it due to the missing chips of paint. But her reflection shocked her, it wasn't the makeup around her eyes, or her ratty hair that caught her attention. If only it was that. No, it was the fact she was stark naked.

She didn't even have a sock on.

Another string of colouerful words tumbled out of the teens mouth as she frantically looked around the room for her clothes. But they were no where to be seen, seemingly having disappeared into thin air.

After a minute she gave up on her search, with each passing second the chances of him waking up was increasing. And that was not a risk she was willing to take.