Own Me

Chapter Fifteen

"I love imperfections."

-Lady Gaga

♔ Chapter Fifteen ♔

His breathing was constant. That was one of the first things I heard as I stirred in my sleep, on the brink of waking up. I was in that ethereal place in between dreaming and reality, where you just kind of lay there, floating, not sure if you were still dreaming or if you were awake. That small, hidden world where you'd keep falling in and out of dreaming, until you finally opened your eyes, and saw the new day before you.

The first thing I saw that day was Sawyer, sleeping comfortably beside me. My hand had been splayed over his bare chest, and I watched it rise and fall with each breath he took. My other hand dangled off the side of the bed, lying on my stomach, my face half-buried in the pillows of a stranger's mattress.

I found myself watching him as he slept. There was something silently unique about watching someone sleep, watching their face as they delved into their own imagination. Even more, there was something undeniably special about how Sawyer looked as he slept. He lay there, his whole face and body still, and even in sleep, he had a hint of a smile quirking over his plushy pink lips. I couldn't take my eyes away from him, transfixed by him, even when he was doing nothing at all, he mesmerised me. Even in his most vulnerable state, he could take my breath away.

Slowly, I pulled my hand off of his chest, and turned myself around so that I was sitting up on the bed. I looked around the room slowly, wiping at my eyes. I'd never seen this place before. It didn't look like the grimey little flat we started last night in. It was clean, and cosy, and warm. The view peaking in from the sea-blue curtains went out onto endless country fields, probably just outside Penzance. I couldn't even remember how we got here. I hardly even remembered last night.

Flashes from last night's party hit me suddenly, fuzzy and barely memorable, but still there. I remembered dancing with Sawyer at the party, the two of us shirtless. The lighting all around us was red and green and blue, making the sweat on our chests shimmer and glow in all kinds of colours. My hands were all over him, my lips touching and kissing every part of his body that it could, still dancing the entire time.

Then we were gone, we were alone, we were fucking. His moans ran through my head over and over again, echoing, making me shiver. Images of his hot, sweaty body writhing underneath me hit my head, making it spin. His head hanging backwards, his mouth open as he screamed my name.

I remembered feeling myself inside of him, pulsing into him fast and strong. His whole body hung on the edge of mine, shivering with pleasure, letting himself go. I was barely hanging onto reality, I remembered, and as I reached my edge, everything changed. The body lying under me grew colder, wetter, bluer. His back arched, and his neck came back up, his face staring right at me. Tom, again. Smiling, his eyes a sneaky, dead blue.

I remembered thinking that I should have stopped, in that moment. As soon as I saw Tom again, I should have stopped and recoiled, but I didn't. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something deeper, but I didn't stop. I couldn't let myself. I thrusted harder, faster, stronger. The whole time, he just kept smiling, and I couldn't find it in myself to stop. I loved him too much to just let him go again.

Then I came, clasping my eyes shut as I felt it hit me, grabbing at my whole abdomen, shooting out and into the body intertwined in mine. I shot straight into him, but when my eyes reopened, it was Sawyer again, collapsed into the bed sheets, his breathing deep and heavy. I felt myself let go, dropping on top of him, still inside of him.