Roses are Red

Chapter 9

Hehe....So, that was something, was it not? I'm still speechless. Chapter 9 ahoy!

XOXO

-Lovetolove17

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Serena's Point of View:

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"Babe, what? Why are you shaking me?" Zane wondered out loud as I let go of him.

"I can't believe we did that last night," I said.

I was a virgin until last night. I can't believe it. 

I'm almost sick with myself.

"It's not like.... you know I didn't force you into anything." He said. "It just...happened I guess."

"You're right," I muttered.

I grabbed his shirt off the floor and put it on, making myself less exposed.

Is this what I wanted?

God, I have no self restraint.

I walked down the hall, down the stairs, around the bend.

I found myself in the kitchen.

I had a pounding headache. I didn't like being hungover.

That was another thing. I'd never been drunk before, let alone drank alcohol. Not even one sip in my entire life. It was a personal choice. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

I raided the cabinets until I found the one containing medicine.

"Anti-Itch? No. Vitamins? No." i mumbled.

I looked in the cabinet, once again.

"Spider bite? No. Ah, here we are, asprin." I said.

I popped a pill in my mouth and felt two arms around my waist. I saw those farmilliar scars.

I turned around.

"I just wanted to remind you of my promise." Zane said.

"Where you promised to love me forever?" I smiled at him.

"No matter what." He kissed me.

I pulled away slightly, then took him by the hand. He followed behind me as I led him out to the outside porch.

"There's something that's been pressing my mind." I said, avoiding direct eye contact with him.

"Oh?" He asked, sounding quite british.

"Well," I said as I looked him in the eyes. "If you love me, why are you so unhappy?'

I saw something in his eyes register.

"I'm happy!" He lied. I saw him force a smile.

"No, you're not. don't lie to me Zane."

"Prove it." He chuckled.

I grabbed his wrist and turned it over, exposing three reddish brown straight lines. His expression turned from happy to nervous in a matter of seconds, as he stared at them.

"I'm not going to yell at you, like your mother or father would. I'm only asking: Why?" I questioned him.

He looked down. I was still holding his hands. He had turned his wrist over, hiding his scars, once again.