His Slut Of The Week || Wattys 2016

Wake Up, Beautiful

                  

"Are you better now?" Steven asked me. I was still sitting in his lap, rocking back and forth. I still didn't feel like talking so I slowly nodded my head. Less than a minutes later of silence, the bell signaling the end of class yelled through the hall.

I tensed at the noise and pressed my head farther into Stevens's chest. He tightened his grip around me and continued whispering in my ear. I tried focusing on his breathing to calm me down. I could feel him talking to someone but the words he was saying didn't make sense in my head.

Someone else took me out of Stevens's arms and I began to whimper, almost like how a small child does when they leave their mother. I would protest, saying that I was fine, that I could walk but I was so tired.

I felt cold air take over my body and I hugged closer to whoever was carrying me. I was laid on top of a soft seat and I heard some sort of door slam shut. There was this smell. One I couldn't quite describe but I think I liked it.

Something opened and this annoying noise began. It soon ended though after I heard another slam. That's when I finally had the courage to open my eyes and explore my surroundings.

I was most definitely in a car, I could have told you that for just the seat but I don't know whose. I tried to sit myself up but my arms are still weak from what I just experienced. I groaned lightly at the throbbing inside of my head. Just then, I pinpointed the scent.

Pina colada.

The air freshener that Drake always put in his car. He said that he didn't like it but it was better than all the other ones that the car washes sold. We always laughed at him for that.

"Drake?" I mumble. I don't know if I actually said it or not because of how out of it I feel, but I guess he heard me because he shushed me. Should I be offended that he shushed me? Probably. Am I going to do anything about it? No.

I must have fallen back asleep because I woke back up on a furry blanket. I could hear mumbling around me but I couldn't sort out the words still. My head felt like a jack hammer was being pounded in it.

This time I could smell freshly popped popcorn and a slight scent of vanilla.

I pulled the sheets up closer to my chin and pushed my face farther into the pillow.

"I think she's awake," I heard a deep voice say in a hushed tone. Some footsteps sounded closer to me. A large hand came in contact with my upper thigh over the blanket. If I still wasn't so out of it, I would've yelled at them, slapped them, or done something to tell them that it's a little too far north for me.

"Beautiful, wake up." Whoever said it, their breath was warm and smelled of sweet mint. Their breath faintly tickled my ear as they whispered it. His hand moved up and down my leg soothingly.

I wanted to open my eyes, I did but I couldn't. My body wouldn't allow it, like it wanted to stay dark forever.

"Come on, Princess," this time, the voice made some kind of recognition in my mind.

"Drake," I groaned once more. I felt a large breath over take my face. The same minty one that whispered in my ear. The there was a sort of tickle on my cheek, then my other cheek, another on my neck, then someone lifted my hand, and the same tickle met my knuckles.

They were kisses. Drakes kisses.

I slowly forced my body to let me open my eyes to the scenes of chaos around me. All seven of the guys surrounded me with the same worried look. Some wore sympathetic smiles on top of it though. My eyes scanned the room soon to realize that I had been in this room before, but it wasn't mine. We were in Drakes room. He always had candles lit, and that is where the smell of vanilla came from. He lit my favorite candle right next to me.

My eyes met Drakes. He was smiling but there was something in his eyes. I don't know how to describe it but they looked deeper almost.

"Are you okay?" Steven asked as he sat at the end of the bed. Drake was still hovered over me with his hand on my upper thigh. I should tell him to move it, but I don't think I want to.

"Yeah," I croak out. My throat is so dry I can barely speak. It feels like sandpaper scratching up and down as my mouth tries to form words. "Water. Please."

"She's okay," I heard Drake sigh.

Nothing too dramatic in this chapter, but is the fuck boy learning how to feel? What is that whole, deepness of the eyes about? Is that called affection dear Riley? Who knows.