EMPIRE OF LUST |18+|

fifteen

'he loves you, he was just angry' i remind myself, wiping my tears.
'he loves you, he was just angry' i remind myself, hopping out of the shower after two hours, scrubbing his smell off me.
'he loves you, he was just angry' i remind myself, sitting at an awkward angle, since i couldn't sit directly on my butt.
'he loves you, he was just angry' i remind myself, applying a cream to the bruises he left on me.

╰┈➤

ever since the fight with my mother, i've been having nightmares and flashbacks more often. the reminders of younger me, and how utterly alone i was.

whoever said confronting your demons would give you closure fucking lied. i spent way too long in the shower today, just scrubbing my body. disgusted with myself for how weak i was, how weak i still am.

i'm at the club right now, it's 5pm on a wednesday. drowning my sorrows in tequila. just as i'm about to pour myself another shot, dave groans next to me and grabs the bottle.

"all right, you're cut off" "what! you can't do that!" i bitch, and he just stares at me. "it's my club, so yes i can. where's your other half?"

"novas at home, thinks i'm at the library" i explain. "should i call her?" "no! don't fucking call her."

he cocks a brow, "i'm sorry, that's the alcohol talking. i'm just stressed. please just one more shot."

"how about you talk to me instead, tell me what happened" i stay silent, not answering him.

thankfully he takes that as a hint. "fine. one more, then you have to talk to me"

"i will" i won't.

he pours me a shot, i don't miss how it's significantly less full then all my others. and walks away. but before i can take the shot, a big, veiny hand snatches the glass and takes my shot.

"motherfu-" i cut myself off when my eyes land on a pair of familiar one. "why are you always here when i am" i grumble and he smirks.

"here" he passes me a glass of something clear, and i raise my eyebrow. "it's water."

i turn around, staring at the bar. but his hand grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. "let me take care of you, peccato sporco"

i fold. opening my lips and he tips my head back, pouring water in my mouth, and i swallow.

suddenly, this innocent act becomes very intimate. i become lightheaded, so i stand up.

"you're drunk, sit down." he orders, but i ignore him, a laugh escaping my throat. "drunk? im tipsy at most" i stumble on my words when he grabs my waist and pulls my back into the chair.

"you're drunk." he states, and i roll my eyes. who cares if i'm drunk? i'm a legal adult i can do whatever the fuck i want to.

we sit in silence, him staring at me, and me staring at the bar, trying my hardest not to stare back.

"you're not going to judge me?" i whisper, and his eyebrows furrow. "judge you? for what?" i laugh, and point at myself. "look at me, i'm a fucking mess, dom"

the corner of his lip tips up and he leans in, whispering "i think you look fucking delicious."
my eyes grow heavy, and words aren't able to come out of my mouth.

i want to say something, but nothing comes out. shit am i that drunk?

"dom" i choke out, stumbling into his chest, the world spinning. the last this i remember is him throwing me over his shoulder, and then i black out.