𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝗥ayne clenched her eyes closed and groaned as the sunlight peeking through the glass door of the balcony awoke her. She peeled her eyes open after a prolonged, needed stretch, and allowed the room to come into focus. A hand touched her mouth and she felt the relieved breath slip through her lips as she realized the swelling had gone down. She had a vague memory of being administered her epi – pen last night.

She used her other hand to reach alongside the mattress, frowning as she felt up Christian's side of the bed: it was cold. Rayne groaned again and spun around, face planting her face into the middle of her pillow. It was during her time of annoyance that the events of last night began to return to her. It was in pieces, of course, but she knew it was bad.

Christian and Rueben fought because of me. Christian hardly talked to me in the car... the rest is a blur... I don't really remember the party ... but I remember—!

Rayne sat up quickly and buried her face in her hands, clutching onto the strands of hair that fell into her face. The conversation with Rueben completely resurfaced – it made her want to throw up.

Oh no no no ... why did I say that!?

She shook her head vigorously. She hadn't meant a single word of her drunken speech towards Rueben. None of it. She accepted who he was a long time ago, how could she not? She enjoyed being around him. Around Mason, Isaac, the girls – she accepted them all. What their titles labeled them to be, weren't their entire personalities. They were humans – people with feelings – people she considered friends. Nothing of their background, especially Rueben's, mattered to her.

I have to fix things.

But before she could come up with words to an apology, loud laughter emerging from the hallway interrupted her thoughts. She sat up straighter and moved towards the edge of the bed. She dangled her legs down the side and slipped her feet into her soft, black slippers before standing up. She felt slightly dizzy (probably an effect from the epinephrine), but ignored it while making her way towards her vanity.

Rayne cringed looking at her reflection.

I look like shit.

She reached up and touched her black – tinted eye bags, wondering what made them such a dark shade today. Was it the alcohol, or the slight brush with death? Regardless, she knew that concealer wouldn't cover them. She shrugged, and hoped that the more she woke up, the more they'd fade into a natural, pinkish color that they normally were.

Rayne began to walk away from it when her wrist hit against the open drawer of the dresser. She yelped half – loud and clutched it – which only made her whimper in exceeded pain. She looked down and gaped as she noticed the blue and black bruises that etched her wrist softly. It was then that she remembered Christian had quite literally dragged her halfway across the room before Mason stepped in. She winced while she touched it once more.