Chapter Thirty-Eight

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(y/n)'s POV

I burst open the door, earning a yelp from a woman nearby. I glanced over, not to see a wincing Heather with a black eye or something, but instead a middle aged lady who was dramatically clutching at her heart.

"My word, who are you?" She all but screamed at me, standing up in her expensive looking high heels that she was for some reason wearing around the house at like 9:45.

"I'm Heather Chandler's friend. I heard what happened, is she okay?" I questioned, nearly tripping over myself. The thought of Heather being hurt caused nausea and a pinprick of pain in my chest.

"She's fine, but it's late. I don't want strangers in my-"

"My name is (y/n) (l/n), I am 17 years old. I'm a very close friend of Heather and she called me immediately and I told her I'd be here. I care deeply for her, and she cares for me. Please, let me see her." I lost my composure towards the end, shoulders hunching. I just wanted to see her. I wanted to kiss her bruises better and tell her that Heather Duke was a fucking bitch and that I loved her so much.

The woman wavered visibly, and I could see the hesitation on her face.

"Do you even know who I am?" She asked, softening just slightly.

"You're Orabelle Chandler. Model, fitness instructor and Heather's mother. She talks about you sometimes. Now please, let me see your daughter." I begged, letting the desperation reach my voice. I just wanted to see my girlfriend, was that too much to ask?

The woman nodded, shocked by my knowledge. As if they weren't the richest and most prominent family anywhere near this stupid town. It always shocked me that they lived here, in Sherwood, Ohio, and not NYC or LA or something. She always was too important for me. Yet, for some ungodly reason we were dating and she said she loved me.

And now I was ready to say it back.

"Fine, you can go up there. She was stumbling around, thought she was drunk off her ass. Take care of her," The blonde but graying woman replied. I nodded, determination resting on my face as I made my way to her room, all too familiar route letting my mind wander.

What if she died?

It was an unreasonable thought, I was well aware of that.

But seriously. What if she was beaten so badly that she died? What if Heather Duke had gone insane and killed her with a nearby brick or rock or tree branch that fell off a tree during a storm? I felt stupid for worrying, but I just wanted to protect her.

Why the hell was I more upset about this ordeal than her mother?

Because I knew the stakes? Because I knew that Duke wouldn't be the only person to beat her up in an alley if she was outed?

I reached the door, gently turning the knob and peered into the dim room. I first saw a long blonde crown of hair, followed by bright red clothing. I ran to her, nearly squeezing the life out of her in a hug. I faltered at the last second, afraid to hurt her in my relief.

"Baby, sweetie, I'm so sorry I wasn't there to save you and you could have died and I was so scared I'm sorry I'm sorry I-" I wailed, keeping it down enough for her parents not to hear my emotional dilemma going on in here.

She looked up, and tackled me backward in a hug. It was so unexpected that I actually fell on the ground with her on top of me. I leaned up and reluctantly connected our lips in a kiss, relaxing and I wrapped my arms around her waist. She didn't flinch, which made me just hold her tighter. I never wanted to let go.

"It's not your fault, honey. It's all Heather fucking Duke, that bitch. But whatever happens, you'll be here for me right?" She said quietly, reluctance seeping into her face and voice. I nodded immediately, making her laugh.

"Of course I will! You... I- I'm not really good at saying this but I... you know I love you, right?" I responded, wincing. It was hard not to break eye contact, but it was worth it when I saw her face light up and a giddy, childish smile spread across her face.

"Good. Now, my everything hurts, so can we got off the hard ground and cuddle on my bed instead?" She asked, getting up. My eyes widened as I remembered that yes indeed, my girlfriend was injured. I jumped up, grabbing her hand to drag her to the bed.

"Can you sleep over?" She asked as she climbed in.

"I can call my mom and ask?" I decided, walking over to her phone because she nodded excitedly. She was an adorable dork when she was tired. I was seriously, so so in love with that girl.

I dialed my home number and after the third ring, my mother answered with a little "Hello?"

"Hey, mom. It's your daughter. Can I stay over at Heather's tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah, get pajamas from her and don't have too much fun," I could hear the smirk in her voice. I nodded, despite the fact that she couldn't see it.

"Thanks mom, love ya. I'll be back sometime tomorrow morning. You don't have to pick me up, I can walk or get a ride from her," I grinned before turning to her.

"So, about that sleepover..." I gave a sly smile and walked over, gently kissing her neck.

"(y/n) (l/n) we are not fucking for the first time while I am dying!" She said, mock-angry. I backed up, booping her nose.

"But why can't I tease my girlfriend when I know she nothing will happen?" I whispered slyly, making sure my face was close enough for me breath to tickle her ear. She turned a light shade of pink and looked at our position, noticing that I was basically straddling her.

"Because then she may just have to fuck you into next week, especially when you look that good on top of her," She responded, before attaching her lips to my jaw.

"Nope," I got up and went to get some of her clothes to sleep in, getting off the bed and making her whine.

"Unfair," She groaned, pouting. I just shot her a playful, carefree grin.

(1089 words)

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