🧪G R E E N L O V E [peter steele] 🧪

TWO OPTIONS 🧪

*Corazon's POV

Electrifying pain shot right through my head just as I opened my eyes, waking me up from a deep, comatosed sleep. I immediately clung my hands around my skull, groaning and incapable of rising up from the bed.

-Hey, hey, easy there. Don't get up yet, okay? You're still in the process of detoxifying.

Peter stood up from the chair he was sitting on, sticking his giant hand out at me and revealing a massive, round white pill upon it. I instantly flinched and backed it away, remembering what happened the other night with Sharona.

-Corazon, look, it's all right. This is only aspirin, I promise. For your headache.

The look in his eyes shimmered with nothing but pure care and generosity, the sound of his voice also giving me the vibe of safety. I put my shield down, giving in to him.

-How did I end up here?

He placed the pill in my mouth, immediately reaching out for the glass of water resting upon the cupboard and holding it out for me, so that I didn't have to get up. I quickly swallowed the pill as I was apologetically staring into his dark, green eyes.

-You don't remember anything?

He put the glass back on the cupboard and sat on the bed, aside of me. Sensing he's back again with his superior attitude, I felt my stomach begin to tingle me from the inside.
I straightened my posture and gave in all the efforts to remain calm, trying to remember last night's episodes.

-I, uh, I remember everything from the club. Everything to the part when I-I left it..

-Mhm, I thought it's going to be like that. I assume that you remember the pill you've taken?

Arms crossed in front of his chest, he cocked an eyebrow at me and sent a very stern look my way, making me sink into the silk of his bed.
Of course I remember. I wasn't that drunk, during that period.

-I.. yeah, I do. Did, uhm, you.. come to p-pick me up?

-I did, yes. I was in fact, at Josh's place when you called him.

Shit!

I felt myself getting hotter within every new breath, despite the cold, sticky sweat that blistered all along my body. My throat began to burn up, familiar taste building up in my mouth.

I bent my torso over Peter's knees and reached down to the bowl, in which I've puked approximately seven times last night, doing it yet all over again.
He swirled his fingers into my ginger strains, holding them firmly so that I wouldn't have any hair in the way.

As I've emptied my system (hopefully), I remained laying on top of his knees and simply enjoyed the sensitivity of his fingers brushing against my back. I gotta say, I did feel slightly embarrassed, but you know, I've already acted in such ways around this man that I simply knew he couldn't get surprised with anything.

-Sorry about this.

He helped me rise up and made sure my pillows were comfortable enough, before he placed me laying on top of them again.

-Don't stress about it. I'd be lying if I said I didn't expect this. To be honest, you're handling it pretty good.

-Really?

-Uh huh. Even last night, while drunken high, you didn't give me many problems.

I felt myself sinking into the silk again, realising he's actually seen me high. Damn, okay, I actually still could get embarrassed.