Rebellious Aurora | ✓

seven | Prada purses in the pool

The throbbing in my head woken me up as I groaned, my hands instinctively flying towards my head before I rubbed my temples in an attempt to chase the throb away now that sleep had already slipped through my fingers.

It took a long time, maybe half an hour, to finally pull myself from the blankets, my back leaning against the comfortable headboard. I blinked a few times, allowing my eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness that the sun had kindly shone through the wide windows for me.

I blinked.

My window wasn't that wide.

I glanced to the other side of the room and immediately frowned at the sight of a glossy white table pushed up against a dark grey wall, an iMac sitting on top as if watching my every move.

I didn't have dark grey coloured walls as well.

As I rubbed my temples again, I stumbled out of the king-sized bed, shocked that I had actually slept here and felt comfortable. I tore my eyes away from the comfortable bed that practically begged me to stay and looked down at my clothing, sighing heavily in relief when I found myself wearing the same clothes I had worn last night.

Last night.

And just with a click of my fingers, parts of my memory that came in little pieces in me drinking and kissing an old man from yesterday began to come crashing in like rough waves, forcing me to drown. I collapsed to my knees and groaned, thrashing my feet wildly like a child having a tantrum as I rubbed my temples for what seemed like the fifth time this morning.

It was morning, right?

I looked over to the nightstand and sighed in relief when it said it was only ten in the morning. On a Tuesday.

Oh well, if I was going to be late to school, then I might as well not go.

Cautiously, I walked to the door and poked my head out of the room, sniffing for some sort of drugs or something with a weird scent that might've indicated that I was in some sort of stranger's house.

After having a short war in my head, I stepped out and smoothed down my skirt before biting my lips nervously as I climbed down the glass spiral staircase that seemed to glisten in the sunlight through the enormous tinted windows.

"Mom!" a feminine voice yelled from behind me, jolting me alive as I immediately turned around to find a beautiful girl who seemed around the age of twenty. Her shoulder-length hair was curled loosely, her blue eyes sparkling in frustration.

She seemed to notice that someone was staring because as soon as she looked down at the steps, specifically at me, she let out a loud yelp. Her blue eyes widened in disbelief as she shamelessly eye-raped me, shaking her head in amusement before crossing her arms over her chest as if to prove to me that she was the head of the house or something.

I suddenly felt insecure under her intense gaze.

"Are you one of Ashton's prostitutes?"

I immediately felt offended even though I guessed I kind of dressed like one but still, she couldn't just judge by a single look. I picked up my head and raised an eyebrow at her. "No."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, taking two steps closer to the steps. "What's your name?"

"Aur-Luna."

Her jaw unhinged and before I knew it, a grin came across her face as she squealed in excitement. She raced down the steps and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the enormous kitchen before sitting me down on one of the stools near the counter.

"You must be Aurora!" she exclaimed excitedly like a little girl.

I nodded slowly, confused. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."