Fatal Attraction | D.M. (Soft Rewrite)

Chapter Eleven - The Morning After

Ophelia was startled to wake in her bed...shuddering at the faint memory of being carried in Blaise's arms. Oh god. She gasped when images of the night fell on her at once.

She could tell it was early in the morning since nobody else had stirred. There were no creeping footsteps heading for the bathroom or whispered conversations. Groaning as she propped her back against a pillow, she rubbed her eyes.

I was right about the hangover.

Wincing as her head throbbed in protest. She felt like a chord of tension had been strung too tight around the circumference of her skull. Any change in expression would provoke an excruciatingly sharp tug on her senses.

Her muscles felt tight, tinged by a subtle ache. While her skin felt clammy from the residue of sweat.

Getting plastered had not been enough to chase away the demons that plagued her sleep. If anything, the visions had been more graphic.

Her father's face had flashed in-between her usual nightmare. He silently screamed, his face twisted in agony, as he ran forward. But she was stuck in a loop as the moment kept repeating.

He would stumble out of sight, before fighting off his assailant, blasting curses in every direction. He would try to reach her over and over, but she was immobile, stuck to the ground.

She was utterly helpless, unable to protect him.

The nightmare only ended when he fell for the last time.

Looking into her bedside mirror, she winced at her appearance. Mascara was trailed down her cheeks and her lips were swollen. Swiping her thumb across them she recalled kissing Blaise.

Checking under the covers, she discovered someone must have removed her clothes and changed her into a silk slip. Her cheeks flushed immediately at the thought Blaise might have seen...well, everything.

As if Millicent could read minds, she parted the curtain of her bed. Sitting her weight on the edge, she kept her voice quiet, 'that was me.'

'Oh,' Ophelia shuffled slightly, wrapping the duvet more tightly under her arms.

'I know – I surprise myself too,' she chuckled faintly, 'who knew I could get girls undressed so easily?'

Ophelia's face reached an even darker shade of red, 'god – do I even want to know,' her tone desperate, as she clapped her face into her palms.

'Probably not but I'll tell you anyway,' Millicent teased.

Ophelia looked up from her hands, wincing in anticipation, 'fine.'

'You basically started taking your clothes off as soon as Blaise brought you upstairs – it wasn't anything sexual – you just really wanted to get comfy before bed –'

Her tale was interrupted by Ophelia slamming her head – face first – down onto her pillow. She couldn't suppress a laugh as Ophelia's muffled wails started, 'c'mon, it's not that bad.'

Tilting her head up, at an awkward angle, she murmured, 'I have a feeling it's about to get worse.'

'You might be right.'

The look on Ophelia's face provoked Millicent's laughing fit, as she watched Ophelia's head hit the pillow again. Her body went limp as she ceded defeat.

It took Millicent a few moments to calm down before she continued, 'anyway, you were lucky I came upstairs just before you got properly undressed – you still had your top on at least – and Blaise was being the perfect gentleman and didn't look – which, to his credit, is sorely out of character.'