Thirty one

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*Owen's POV*

We're in the back of a car.

She is straddled on my lap.

The road is empty.

The only source of light is coming from the street lamp.

Her hands are gripped onto my shoulders as I trail kisses up and down her neck.

The moans tumbling out of her mouth could make me combust right now in my fucking pants.

When my lips latch onto a certain part of her neck she whimpers into my ear.

She fucking whimpers.

I lightly bite down and continue sucking away. Creating a hickey.

Her hand wraps themselves around the back of my neck and pulls me away.

Our faces are extremely close.

She is breathing heavy.

With the hand around my neck she pulls me in.

Our lips are about to touch.

I wake up sweating.

Looking at my phone, the time reads four am.

Dammit.

This is like the fourth dream this week.

My breaths are heavy, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Shit." I whisper as my head falls back on my pillow.

~

*Luna's POV*

"Just leave!" I cry out.

My hand gestures to the front door.

Mateo and Camila stare at us from the couch.

"This is my home! You can't kick me out!" His grip on the bottle of liquor is so tight I'm surprised it hasn't broken into a thousand little pieces.

"No! You haven't been home in weeks!" Tears sting in my eyes and my voice cracks after every word.

Of course mom is still at work.

"You have no right to be speaking to me like that! I'm your father and you will respect me.  I didn't raise you to be a bitch!" I hear Mateo starting to cry while huddled next to Camila.

Glancing to them I see Camila looking at him with sad eyes as he hides his small frame under her arm.

She reassuringly whispers words in his ear and rubs his arm.

"Don't worry.  It'll be over soon.  We can play Roblox afterwards.  It'll be okay.  I promise.  We'll watch the Spider-man movies later.  It'll be okay." Her words are hushed to him.  Repeating them over and over again to try to make him feel better.

My vision is blurry when I look back to my father.

I'm sick of just standing here and letting him do this.  I'm tired.  I'm tired of the same fucking cycle.  Repeating over and over again.

"Just get out, dammit!" My voice is hoarse from the yelling.  The angry tears begin to trickle down my cheeks.

I walk up to him and place my hands on his shoulders, pushing him towards the door.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out." I yell as his drunk ass stumbles backwards.

When he regains his balance he throws the bottle on the floor.

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