GHOST OF YOU | BWS

thirteen.

I wake up to a throbbing pain in my head, the expression on my face instantly turning into a frown. Please, make it stop. I bring my hands to the sides of my head and apply pressure, hoping it would make the throbbing somehow more bearable, but it doesn't work. I open my eyes, slowly getting used to the bright light in the room and it doesn't take me long to realize I'm not home. Memories of last night start to flood my mind, the party, Elly, his hands all over me, Brad. My heart starts to race in my chest at the all too familiar situation I am in. I'm at Brad's again. I pull the duvet away from me and see that I'm not wearing my dress anymore but a guy's shirt and I can only assume it's his. The last thing I remember from last night is being in his arms and all those people looking at us. Did he finish what Elly had started? For some reason, something tells me he didn't. I wouldn't be in his bed, wearing his shirt if he did, would I? I gather all my strength and manage to get out of bed, goosebumps quickly appearing on my skin at the contact of the chill air on my bare legs and arms. I quietly make my way out of the room and into the living room where I hear a voice coming from what I assume is the kitchen. I decide to follow it and come face to face with the familiar head of brown curls I am starting to get used to being rescued by. When he sees me, his eyes wander down my body in the least discreet way possible and he hangs up the phone. I stand there at the door looking at him as his eyes finally make their way back up to my face. He's wearing the same pair of sweatpants he was wearing the last time I woke up at his place, only this time he's not wearing any shirt, his tattooed torso on full display. I find myself looking at the drawings that cover every single inch of skin on his chest and down to his rib cage. The skin below there has yet to be inked and I notice that my eyes are stuck on the outline of his abs for a little too long.

"You're awake", he states, leaning against the counter and breaking the silence in the room as we stare at each other. I feel my cheeks burn up as I realize he probably noticed me staring. I clear my throat in the most awkward way and bring my hands to the em of the shirt I'm wearing, trying to make it fall a little lower on my thighs, suddenly feeling shy at the idea of being in this outfit in front of him. "How are you feeling?" he asks, not breaking eye contact.

"Not great", I answer, trying hard to understand that guy. I can't take his hot and cold behaviour anymore. Why does he act like such an asshole but then keeps on saving me? The bigger question here is why do I keep putting myself in those situations? Parties are obviously not for me. "What happened to my dress?", I ask and the look on his face changes, a frown quickly replacing his blank expression.

"You don't remember what happened yesterday?", he asks as I walk into the room in hope to get some water.

"I do. Kind of...", I say, trying to remember all the details, but only flashes come to my mind. "I mean most of it. Can I have some water?", I add and he looks at me for a second before turning around and extending his arm towards the shelf and grabbing a glass. He fills it up with tap water and hands it to me. I take a step forward to be able to get the glass, my heart beating faster now that I'm closer to him, and start drinking, feeling better already. For some reason I don't feel in danger alone in this room with him, contrary to the other day. Something about him makes my body react in a weird way, and for the first time, I know it's not fear. Is him being half naked in front of my eyes igniting something in me? Most definitely. Is it his tanned skin covered in black ink, the messy curls framing his face, or his hazel eyes that are currently struggling to stay focused on mine? I don't know, but something is without doubt starting a fire in me.

"I don't think you'll be able to wear the dress again", he says and I suddenly remember Elly ripping it open before his hands started groping my breasts. A wave of shivers rushes through my body at the memory of what happened yesterday. Elly almost raped me. If Brad hadn't showed up in time, Elly would have finished what he started. I can still feel his hands on me, squeezing my tits roughly and his fingers in between my legs as I laid there powerless. I don't think there's anything worse than being powerless, at the mercy of a man while he does things to you he really shouldn't be doing. I feel dirty and sick.