INKED LINES // H.S.

Chapter 7

"You can't force chemistry to exist when it doesn't in the same way you can't deny it when it does."

****

Adilyn's POV

My eyes feel groggy and heavy as they slowly flutter open.  A small stream of sunlight beams its way through a crack in the blinds of the window, telling me it's morning.

My head gives a painful thump as I go to roll over, reminding me of how much alcohol I had last night.

Last night.

The memories flood back in, the way he had kissed me deeply and slowly; opposite to the way his body had pressed so firmly to mine. I physically shudder when I remember the way his tongue had ran along my bottom lip.

I sit up quickly in my bed, trying to ignore the way my head pounds in protest to the sudden action. I need to distract myself from my thoughts before I start replaying the memories over and over in my mind. I try to ignore the fact that butterflies have started dancing in my stomach.

With a quick tap on the screen of my phone, I learn that it is seven in the morning. It's early but I know there is no way I am going to be able to go back to sleep now.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and walk quietly over to the mirror, fixing my twisted pyjama shirt in the process. I try to be as quiet as possible as I pad across the floor, noticing the still passed out figure of Mila snuggled underneath a pile of blankets.

I glance at myself in the mirror and I'm not surprised when I'm met with puffy eyes. Last night I had escaped the party early when my head had started to spin, either from the alcohol or the kiss I don't know. Nonetheless, I felt the need to be alone.

No one had come after me when I had left which was a relief. I had immediately collapsed into bed, hiding beneath the covers. Tears had started to trickle down my face as soon as my head hit the pillow, my solitude finally allowing my brain to process the events of that morning. The memories had flooded in, unstoppable, after being pushed away so many times that day. I couldn't stop the sobs that had escaped my mouth, finally releasing my despair of how this could be my life. Thoughts of Harry's lips were long gone as I cried until sleep eventually offered an escape.

My eyes now, as they reflect at me, are still rimmed with redness and a level of exhaustion has set in on my stiff shoulders.

I take a deep breath and try to brush off the feelings of yesterday, pushing the memories away, like always.

Needing to release some of my feelings somehow, I reach into my shelf, pulling on a pair of black leggings, a crop top and a baggy shirt that reads some ridiculous line like, 'You can do it!'

I pull on a pair of sneakers before slipping out of the bedroom door, closing it quietly behind me.

The house is dead quiet as I pass through it. After making a quick stop at the bathroom to try and hide the bags underneath my eyes, I make my way towards the front door and I slip quietly out, relishing in the warm morning rays that immediately touch my skin.

I pace down towards the jetty, once there I tilt my head back to the sky and let the sun heat my face. The morning air is already slightly warm, and I know it is going to be another hot day.

I pull my right leg up behind me, holding it up against my bottom as I stretch my quad. My head still pounds slightly, but I try to ignore the sensation as I continue to stretch my muscles. I start to jog a little on the spot, siking myself up for my run.

"I never would have picked you as a runner." I hear someone call from behind me. The voice is deep and slow.

Please don't be him. I'm not mentally prepared enough yet for it to be him. But there is no denying the British undertone.