Fly

Chapter Nine: Blizzards and Pleasure Mix Well

Hey guys! Just letting you know, this chapter is pretty explicit. If you're not comfortable reading that type of stuff, I wouldn't suggest reading too far into the chapter. Also, thanks for all the messages, votes, and comments! Your support means everything to me and couldn't thank each and everyone of you enough! Enjoy the chapter!

Lana's POV

        So I didn't wake up and decide to go straight to Beast's. I woke up to see the blizzard outside and had the brilliant thought of trying to go out for a jog. 

        It did not go well. 

        After trying to run through the almost-reaching-my-knees snow, I went back to the building (which took a total of forty five minutes). By then, they had already decided to cancel school. It was still dark outside so tried to go back to sleep.

        That didn't happen.

        So I went to bathroom and tried to reorganize and clean. I was wiping the mirror when I noticed bruise like marking on my neck. Peculiar. Was that a hickey? I hadn't even kissed anyone. Or did I? Was I that drunk at the party? I doubt it. I tried going through my memory of Saturday night but it was pretty hazy. I guess I shouldn't drink more than I can handle but it didn't feel like that much.

        Shaking my head in dismay, I go back into my bedroom. My phone reads about 5:30 so I try reading a book. While a great book, my mind keeps straying towards something else. Or someone else. 

        I throw the book in frustration and lay in my bed. Staring at the ceiling, I just wonder why it has to be him. Why do I like him so much? Why don't I just make a move already? Maybe because I was afraid of being in a relationship? God, that sounded so cheesy. I didn't feel afraid. I felt nervous. Like how I felt during my first kiss. Afraid that I was doing it wrong but loving the way butterflies flew around my stomach.

        I don't know. Maybe its because we're friends? I don't think so. I love being his friend. It easy going, he's not expecting anything. When I first met him, I thought he was so hot and I would end up in his bed. Some part of me still wants to be in his bed, with him, underneath him, on top of him, sideways, upside down, on the table,on the sofa, in the bathroom, in the shower, on the floor, on the wall, I wanted it all.

        "Oh my god." I cannot just believe I thought that. I didn't want to be a slut. Was I? I've slept with three guys. I don't know if that above average or average but I am certainly not proud of it. I mean, sure, I believe a woman should be proud of her sexuality and be confident in herself. But is that what I am?

        When I was with Kendall, I never felt that way. What I mean is that I never felt those urges or those hot flashes. I only slept with him because I felt like that's what normal couples did. And I wanted to be a normal couple so bad. I had always tried to hid the fact that he was abusive in every sense of the word. He would degrade me, beat me, and anything else you could think of. But on the outside, it seemed like a perfect couple. Every girl was jealous of me. Kendall was handsome, charming, and everyone went to him for the hookup. No one suspected. Why would they? It's not like I ever tried to ask anyone for help. Never tried to help myself.

        It's sad, you know. Sad that I can't look at belts without an undercurrent of fear running through my body. That I'll always be afraid of Kendall. That I have scars on my body that I'll never be able to fully explain to a significant other in the future. That I'll always feel ashamed. It was all just so depressingly sad.

        I rubbed my palms against my eyes. I didn't want to think about this. I just wanted to sleep.

        Frustration rolled through me. I was so tired but my body refused to let me actually fall asleep. I grabbed the cover from my bed and wrapped it around me as I stood up. I didn't want to think these things and be alone. I knew what I was going to do.