FLAMES

My Flower

When I finally woke up after a night of slight restlessness and too many orgasms, I hated that a man who I didn't know the name of was the first thing I thought of. I rubbed my face, staring at the edge of the bed and thinking about what happened the night prior. I got up, going to take a shower. I looked at the first aid kit on the floor, and kicked it aside, ignoring it. There was absolutely no way in hell I would see him again today, three times was too many. The water was hot against my skin, an attempt to burn away the feelings and events- everything he'd caused me.

I mentally made a list of things to never do again:
1. No falling for guys over 6ft
2. No liking guys who have you suck them off and leave
3. No liking guys who won't show you their face
4. No liking guys who don't tell you their name
5. No liking guys with regular sized dicks

The last one was just because you can't really picture a good blowjob with a guy any less than him now. I scrubbed my face, stretching my arms up and getting out, deciding to take a little time for myself.

I took care of my hair, my scalp a tiny bit sore. I looked at my neck in the mirror, noticing a barely visible bruise, a handprint. I tried to ignore it and focus on covering it up, and got back into the appropriate gear for another protest. Of course I wasn't going to listen to him, why would I? I rolled my neck, wincing a little.

When I was dressed and decent, I looked at my friend. I considered calling my best friend- but how many questions would they have? I sigh and turn it off instead, shoving it into my bag. I make it out of my house, heading downtown. I pass by a few people and I try to keep my head down.

When I'm downtown, most people are gathered around some people speaking. I look around and decide to lean against a lamp post a bit away from the crowd, focusing on what has to be said. I had tested out my voice in the shower, and from the screaming at protests and last nights events- my voice was hoarse and mumbly.

"Foolish little girl." the voice runs stone cold through my body, and I turn around, immediately regretting it. Every feeling came rushing back, and my eyes scanned his body- I knew what some portions looked like. I thought of his thighs again and mentally slapped myself on the wrist.

"I'm trying to pay attention, dude. Seriously, go away. You got what you wanted last night, let me breathe." I turned back to what I was actually here for, and tucked my hair behind my ear. He walks up behind me, running his hand on my arm.

"No. Not true. And that's not true for you at all. I told you....I think of you often." my breath is in my throat, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The speakers finish and people start to march again. I bend down and pick up my sign. "Are you leaving?"

I think. "Well, I was going to, yeah, it's getting way too hot out. I have a headache."

He grabs my sign and puts it against the light post, and puts his hand on my shoulder. He starts walking, and I'm half dragged with him.

"Dude, where the fuck are you going?" I hiss. He doesn't answer me, and his boots hitting the pavement is all he's saying.

He makes his way across the street to the public park, taking me into the public restroom. He walks in the women's room, sees the stalls are empty, and locks the door to the entire bathroom. He shoves me against the counter. My head is tilted up by his glove and I make a small noise in the back of my throat.

"I told you not to come today." I rolled my eyes.
"You could get hurt."

My heart tugs- maybe he does care. But then I remind myself that he doesn't, that I'm simply a toy he's using and a faceless fling to me. I stare at him.