If Only Bruises Could Heal.

Chapter 1

"Damn," Alan smirked as he walked into the room. "You look so fucking sexy right now, babe." He pressed his body against mine from behind, pulled my hair away from my neck and starting kissing the skin right above my collar bone. I was wearing a loose fit deep-red sweater with the sleeves pushed up to my elbows. But it was my dark skinny jeans that caught his attention, his favourite jeans on me. Alan absolutely loved it when I wore them, even though they rode way too low for my own comfort. Seeing the look in his eyes was enough for me. After all, it's a celebration dinner for him and his band tonight, signaling the end of yet another successful tour, so this is just a little something extra for him.

I smiled down at the floor as I twisted the cap shut on my mascara, his lips sent vibrations throughout my entire body, I was like putty in his arms.

"Stop!" I giggled at him. "We have to leave in like five minutes, do you wanna be late to this one too?" I said, remembering all the other important band-related stuff he was constantly being late to. Alan pushed the warm fabric away from my shoulder, completely ignoring what I had just said. His hot lips trailed all along my skin, making me shudder in pleasure. But the euphoria of the moment was cut short as his kiss landed right on the black and blue shading that followed the trail of my collar bone to my shoulder, and I winced at the pain. His arms wound tighter around me, pushing against my rib cage only slightly, but enough to feel the soarness that lined my sides as well.

"Alan," I said, the laughter and jokingness gone from my voice, replaced by the discomfort of the pain. "Alan stop."

"What?" He asked, looking up at my through the mirror. His eyes flicked from the bruises on my shoulder to my face as his fingers traced the swollen areas on my ribs. Even his light touch now was felt intensely by the sensitive marks on my skin. His face was void of any and all emotion.

Alan then pushed away from me, grabbing his wallet and keys off the bed before shoving both items in his pockets hastily and heading for the door. It was as if I had suddenly annoyed him, or ticked him off, or something of the sort. "I'll be in the car." He said blatantly as he left the room, not looking me in the eye once.

Silence fell over the room, it was just me and my reflection now. The black and blue on my shoulder stared back at me, like it was giving me a death glare. The blood throbbed under my skin, but I ignored it and just pulled my shirt back over the mark, making sure it was no longer visible. And for a breif moment, I lifted up the fabric along my right side, revealing even more bruises, some even bigger than the one on my shoulder. A few were even yellowing along the edges. It hurt to even breathe. I was curious to see how bad they had gotten, but as usual, my curiosity only hurt me more and left me dissapointed. I sighed lightly and pulled the shirt back down, adjusting it to my liking.

I shut my eyes and leaned my head down towards the floor, willing the memories back into the deep dark parts of my brain. I had to pull myself together, I couldn't let the others worry. I took another deep breath and looked back up at my reflection, scanning my body for any signs of my wounds.

Nothing.

I checked my make-up, making sure my eyeliner hadn't smudged at all. I ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing down some of the straightened blonde pieces in front of me. I wanted to look semi-fancy, this was a really nice restaurant after all. I slipped on a few bracelets and my plain black heels, slung my bag over my unhurt shoulder and walked out the door to meet Alan in the car.

I smiled down at him as I walked towards his black Mazda, earning a lustful grin back as I settled into the passenger seat. He gripped my hand in his, maybe a little to tightly, as he revved the engine and drove off onto the main boulvard.