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What was he doing there? How did he get there? Was Zach in the club last night? Why was he in the club? Was he looking for him? Why was he looking for him? How did he know where to look? Did he ask his fraternity brothers for his whereabouts? If so, who gave him the tip? Mateo, that bastard? In the club, did he lurk around, hid himself in the crowd, and when he noticed that Adam was too intoxicated by alcohol and was out of himself, he dragged him from the club all the way to his apartment? Why would he do all that?

The throbbing of his head caused by the excessiveness of the alcohol he drank last night worsened because of all these questions.

He lifted his head to look around the room. He was able to relax a little when Zach was nowhere to be found; but when his eyes landed on his body, he jolted up from the bed. The suddenness of his movement made his head quiver, but he could not help it. Anyone who would find themselves wearing nothing but their underwear in the territory of their enemy would react the same way.

He caressed his forehead in hopes that the memories of the previous night would return to him, but they seemed to not have found their way back to Adam's body yet. He could not remember anything from last night; his mind was blank, pitch black. Only more questions occupied his empty head and these new questions sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Did Zach do something to him last night without his consent? Or worse, did he give his consent while under the influence of alcohol? Did he enjoy it? Did his body react the same way when they first kissed? Who entered who?

He instinctively felt his rear end. The absence of pain gave him some relief that nothing was forced upon him the previous night.

However, regardless of whether there was consent or none, he was sure that something must have happened, and the thought of it, the thought of him having sex with another man, the thought of him entering another man, made him want to throw up.

He gathered the remaining strength in his body, but it was not enough to counter the heaviness that was dragging him down. He stood up, but only to fall back to the bed. His eyes caught the sight of the wolf stuffed toy that he won for Zach. It was looking at him with that serious look as if it was judging him for everything that it saw happened the previous night. He grabbed it by the neck and threw it to the other side of the room.

He ran his palms over his face. He wanted to leave that place; he could not bear staying in that room where he lost his dignity, where he was taken advantage of. But he did not know where his clothes were. He cannot go out of that room only wearing his black boxer briefs. He was stuck there in that room and was left under the mercy of his tormentor, of the serpent who disguised himself as a lovely flower. He should have known that his beauty was nothing but a trap, a mechanism to captivate the attraction of men like him, and once he has held them by their neck, he would show his true form and would devour them until he was satisfied.

The sound of the doorknob woke him up from his thoughts. He tried to sit up, but the heaviness of his head did not allow him. He grabbed a pillow and used it to cover himself instead.

"How's your head?" Zach said upon closing the door behind him. He spoke with his normal tone, soft and sweet, but the sound of it only irritated Adam. No amount of softness and sweetness of his voice could cover up the horrible things that he had done to him last night. He scoffed.

"I brought you a cup of brewed coffee. They say it's a cure for a hangover."

His heart pounded when Zach walked towards him with a smile on his face that appeared to him menacing. The Zach that he knew would not be able to look nor even smile at him when he was not wearing any clothes on. Something must have happened last night which gave him the confidence that he has now.

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