Red Lighter ✧ John Murphy

XXI - Yes, No, Maybe So?

August 31st, 2015

I HAVE WRITER'S BLOCK. A little. I've written another chapter and the beginning of chapter 23... BUT STILL. HALLLLLLP. But thanks to Autumn_Dovepine for helping me to write this chapter at the next. :) She gave me ideas.

This chapter is dedicated to her. So go follow her, and talk to her, and read her stories, because she is wonderful. ^_^ BAIIIIIIIIIIIII.

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Chapter Twenty-One

Murphy and I had fallen asleep afterwards. We had stayed up for what seemed like hours, just talking. I learned more about him, and he learned more about me. Then we had a debate about which was better: Soccer or Football. And I won. Ha! My argument was that Soccer was a universal sport, while Football wasn't.

It was nice, because it wasn't awkward. It hadn't been Murphy's first time, but it had been mine. He knew that, and he was gentle.

However, he wasn't so gentle now. It kinda felt like he was squeezing all of the air out of my lungs. He was hugging me pretty tightly, and I was attempting at trying to get his arms off. Plus, I really wanted to take a shower. Maybe that would relieve a bit of the soreness that was still lingering.

I was just happy we had decided to put some clothes on while we were talking.

When that didn't work, I poked his cheek a few times. He groaned a little, turning his head to the side.

"Murphy, I gotta get up eventually," I told him, smiling. "Can you please let go of me?"

"No," he sighed.

"Yes," I replied.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

He sighed, then opened his eyes and lifted his head so that he could look at me properly. And, before I knew it, he had rolled us over so that he was hovering over top of me, holding my hands on either side of my head. "Why should I?" he smirked.

"Because I'm telling you to," I said sternly.

"I don't think you call the shots here, Star," he snickered.

"Don't you know how relationships work?" I asked.

He smirked at me before leaning down. I lifted my head up ever so slightly, my lips grazing his teasingly, before I reached to his wrist and flipped it so that his grip faltered. And before he could stop me, I was straddling him. He stared up at me, the shock evident in his expression.

"The woman ALWAYS calls the shots," I smiled, planting a chaste kiss on his lips before I hopped off of him and walked to the bathroom. It hurt a little to move so quickly, but not very much.

I took a long and hot shower, and I was right. It did help.

When I came back out, wearing the clothes I had put on last night, I decided that I would go and look through another drawer in the dresser. My feet seemed to be really cold. Maybe there were socks, or something? I tried almost every drawer, but to no avail. Nothing to keep my poor little frozen feet warm.

But the one thing that I was especially confused about was the way that one of the bottom drawers refused to open.

I crouched down and looked closely at it, only to see that just above the handle was a lock. It looked like I needed some strange kind of key to open it. I searched through the room to see if I could find the key, my curiosity getting the best of me. And, of course, nothing turned up. Was I having an off day?

Probably.

Murphy walked into the bedroom, sending a soft smile at me before going over to the dresser as well. He pulled out a dark grey t-shirt, yanked off the white one he had somehow managed to get a red wine stain on, and then slowly pulled on the other one. Probably to torture me.

And when he smirked over at me, I knew it was true.

I groaned, and walked over to the bed. As I did, I accidentally hit my foot against the nightstand, and I yelped in pain when I did. I had hit my pinkie toe on the corner. I groaned and sat down on the bed, then I glared silently at the nightstand, when I realized something.

Neither of us had ever opened it. Was it locked, or had we just decided not to look?

I yanked on the drawer handle, and when I saw what was inside, my eyes widened. But when Murphy saw it, he burst out laughing.

"We could have used those last night!" He was practically crying from the laughs that shook his entire body.

Condoms.

The nightstand is filled with condoms.

I'm just gonna let that sink in for a minute.

He started to speak again, pausing to snicker a little. "So why couldn't you get the 'damn drawer' open?"

"It was locked."

"A drawer was locked?"

"I know. It's weird. I really wanna know what's in there."

"Eh, we'll find out how to get it open eventually," he said, a mischievous tone coming in his voice. "Or we could just smash the thing. There's probably a sledge hammer or something somewhere aroun-"

"Murphy, we are not smashing the dresser."

"You're no fun."

"I know."

He smirked a little, then looked down at my feet. The smirk began to fade, and his brow raised.

"What?" I asked.

"There's a hook... It's a metal ring in the floor," he said, walking over to where I was standing and pointing under my feet.

I moved to the side while he knelt down, and moved the corner of the rug. He was right, there was a metal ring that looked to be like the ones you would use for a trap door. The carpet around the ring was cut.

"What is it?" he muttered, then pulled back the rug all the way.

"It's a door," I said. "At least, I think it is."

He shrugged his shoulders, then grabbed the ring and pulled. I was right, it was a door. There were steps there, more similar to a ladder than a stairway. They seemed to go down into a bunker of some sort.

He looked over his shoulder at me, smiling. "Feel like doin' a little exploring?"