𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐇|✔︎

𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑦-𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 : 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑

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"Roses are red, I'm going to bed."

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"Ow..." I quietly grumbled while rolling over to the other side of the bed in an immaculate reaction, feeling like a ton of bricks was just thrown above my head as my body was surrounded by heart wrenching numbness and nothing else for me to actually feel physically anymore.

"What the fuck happened to me?" I groaned out a whimper of confusion while massaging my head with my shaking hands, feeling it throbbing with the worst headache I've ever gotten in my life in all the 22 years of my entire existence, before opening my eyes to see I'm back in Zenith's classic bedroom, being surrounded with the colours of black, white and blood red that I was already very familiar with and was almost comforted with because of this place being my real home now.

What happened last night?

Why is my head a bitch to me now, ugh.

"Zenny?" I questioned out loud again while sitting up on the lovely yet bouncy mattress I was suspiciously placed on in the direction of his side of the bed, already knowing my body ache forbids me from moving too much at this point because of the tweaking jolts of agony flashing here and there in my simmering blood, before I sat on the bed and leaned on the headrest behind me to seek some comfort, getting none because it just added onto my back ache.

"Zenith? Where are you?" I called loudly with a hoarse voice while coughing the life out of me due to the many present blocks in my pips, finally remembering something from last night after certain images came back to me like a tsunami of turmoil, which made my blood freeze in its place inside my cells and body for a brief second, with either anger or supposed perplexity filling my eyes like a canvas.

Oh yeah, a lot happened last night.

That sexy son of a god did shit to me in the bathroom with his hands, he will get a big lecture from me.

I will spank him for real. Like spank him with my own chappal.

"How much did I fucking drink last night?" I snarled at myself in secret while looking at myself from top to bottom, letting my sight trail on every inch of myself, before finding that I was yet again wearing his clothes for the umpteenth time as I had reckoned, with his scent flooding my nostrils immediately without fail, before seeing the odd and deep scratch marks on my arms which had resulted a small gasp from my chapped lips.

Fuck fuck fuck—

Bruh these look like—

Dude!

What the heck happened to my arms?!

How did this happen?!

A huge wave of bitter nostalgia ran through my veins after hissing a small whimper to myself of concern and disappointment, making bile rise a little in my throat at the similar sight that was like the worst enemy of my seeing sense, before blinking my eyes to see if these were not a piece of my imagination, trying to figure out what the heck was going on and how did this happen to me in the first place.

There's no way I...

There's just no way.