'𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒙? 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕.'
|18+| |unedited| ❝We're not meant to do this. It doesn't feel right.❞ My voice was ragged and I completely forgot how to breathe when her hands trailed...
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Please make it stop.
It hurts so much.
As I try to move my left arm, it felt like a truckload of rocks were dumped on my body.
So heavy.
Opening my eyes to unfamiliar surrounding, I frown. The dark grey walls replaced the white walls I was used to waking up to. The ceiling was pitch black.
Where the hell am I in?
I glanced down my body immediately, scared I would find chains binding my legs and arms, releasing a low sigh as I find none.
Sitting up with my back and a pillow against the headboard, I finally see that I was only in a big t-shirt and I had red swollen marks all over my body. Everywhere.
What happened?
I try to remember what happened last and everything was in a blur. I was fighting Salvatore and Mat–
"Mateo!" I scream out panickily, looking around the room.
I hear loud thuds before my door swings open, and if I wasn't already so sick, I'd faint all over again from how haggard he looked.
His beard which was always neat and tidy has turned bushy. He has bags under his eyes. His tanned skin looks so pale now. His shirt were all wrinkled and worn out.
What the fuck is happening?
"... Ari.... oh my fucking God." He takes long strides over to my bed and wrapping his arms over my body.
His stiff muscles wraps my small body into his and from how comforting and warm it was, my body was already still sore and it hurts.
"..too tight." I tap his shoulder and he releases me. Not completely though.
His hands rests on my biceps and he searches my face for any injuries or whatever.
"Are you okay?" he asks, looking so vulnerable all I want to do is just to hug him so tight.
"I'm okay....better than before." I beam at him, trying to lighten the atmosphere and he just gives me a small smile before releasing and pushing me back to the headboard.
"I'm finally relieved." His hand massages my thighs, and I could see how worried and scared he's been.
"How long has it been?" I ask, running my hands through his hair, which has grown a whole lot longer. I just want to pull it. "Three weeks? or two?"
He laughs, the happiness not quite reaching his eyes. "It's just been five days Arianna."
What? How? It always takes so long in all the movies I watch.
"I thought it'd be like two weeks at least, Hollywood lied to me, i–"
He cuts me off with a glare as I joke and ramble on.
