***

"Open the fuckin' door!" I heard drunken yell in the background. My head was pounding at the sound of someone trying to burst through my doors. The doorknob kept being hardly pressed that I seriously thought that it's going to break off.

It took me a while to realize what was actually happening. Someone was trying to broke into my apartment in the middle of the night! Before I knew it, I jumped out of the bed and ran towards the living room. The unclear shouting was unbearable and my ears literally started to bleed at the sound of someone violently kicking my door. In complete fear, I grabbed my phone and turned to call the police when suddenly, the blurred voice got clearer. Almost familiar.

I carefully walked towards the door where the all kicking and hitting stopped. I slowly pressed my ear against them and heard silent sobs and cries. I looked through the peephole and all my suspicions came true.

Without hestation, I unlocked the door. His bright blue bloody eyes met mine. They looked vulnerable as I've never witnessed them before but as soon as they processed the situation, he jumped on his feet and hurried in my apartment. I was stunned. Too stunned to realize what was actually happening.

He pushed me against the wall and harshly pressed his lips against mine. I haven't wait even a second to push him away. I kicked him in the crotch causing him to yell in pain.

I panicked. He was drunk and probably drugged too. He grabbed my arm again and pushed me back against the wall but I repeated my previous action.

"Get your hands off of me! You're drunk! Get yourself togheter!" I cried.

"You're beautiful." He whispered. I deeply sighed and ran my hand through my hair.

"Give me your phone." I ordered but he ignored me. "Marshall I swear to God, I'm going to kick you again if you don't give me your goddamn phone!" He drunkly smirked and put his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants pulling out a mobile phone. Satisfeid, I accepted it. "Don't move, okay?"

"Don't move." He repeated. I started going over his contact list in search for help. First I typed 'Proof', nothing. Next, I tried with Deshaun but the outcome was the same. Damn it.

I headed toward living room where Marshall was peacefully sat on my couch. "Uh Marshall... What's the name of your wife?" I asked. Not that I wanted to have a chitchat with her though, I was desperate at the moment. His eyes then landed on the phone in my hands and he frowned.

"Nah, Doodie said I ain't gotta call her." He muttered. Doodie. Doodie! I quickly typed another Deshaun's nickname and the screen shortly revealed the number I was looking foor. I quickly dialed it and walked into my room, making sure that I closed the door behind me.

After few rings, someone picked up and I sighed in relief.

"Yo Doodie!" Proof greeted.

"Uh, hey Deshaun, it's Sarah." I said uncomfortably.

"Yo sup with you man?! Watcha doin' with Doodie?" He asked and then I heard woman's giggles. "Oh yes baby." He groaned and then I heard loud female moans. "Back on ya Sarah."

"You're disgusting." I stated.

"Anyway, why you called the big Proof babe?" He arrogantly ignored my statement but I couldn't help but to chuckle.

"Uh yeah, Marshall's here. He's drunk and possibly drugged. He just stormed here and I don't know what to do with him."

"Fuck." He muttered. "Uh yeah, I get you. Just let him sleep you know, I'm kinda uh, busy right now but he'll be fine in the morning, yeah" I sighed and rubbed my forehead.

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