Die For Something (Remington Leith/ Palaye Royale/ Denis Stoff)

I Need A Place To Stay

Surprisingly, I remembered exactly where he lived. His voice rung in my head.

Come stay with me if you need anything, and I mean anything. Just show up on my doorstep.

Though I hadn't talked to him in months, I knew the offer was still valid. We met at one of the parties Emerson had dragged Raven and I to and I ended up waking up in his bed, hungover. Turns out we had shared our stories.

He slept out on the couch out of respect for me and offered for me to live with him. I ended up staying for the next week and a half, getting to be really good friends with him.

Its weird, I know, but he'd never hurt me. At least from the knowledge I held about him.

Hopefully he still lived at the same apartment. The door was a dark chestnut brown with a golden handle and lock. I knocked almost forcefully on it and quickly returned my hand to my pocket. He lived up town, making it even colder here then at Remington's.

The door slowly slid open but quickly gapped open when he saw it was me. A tall, slightly tanned boy in a white shirt with a girl drawn on it, her eyes whitened out and her hair a mess, a couple tattoos on her shoulder and back, then a pair of black jeans with rips at the knees, stood at the door. His hair a dark brown that almost looked black, perfectly framed his face. He had a slight scruff on his chin and a mustache starting. He had a loop on the left side of his nose as well.

His pinkish lips spread into a smile and his tattooed arms reached towards me for a hug. I quickly took the offer and melted into his arms. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me as close to him as he could, putting his head in the croke of my neck. I took in his sent, strong cologne with a tiny hint of mint.

He pulled me backwards and closed the door to keep the cold air out and continued to hug me. After I left his house, we kept in touch everyday. He made me feel safe.

I was egar to return after I showed up back home with a pissed off father who beat the shit out of me but I knew if I returned and he saw my body he would flip shit and kill my dad. Literally.

It's actually quite weird how safe he makes me feel. We even took showers together during the time I stayed with him, though he didn't dare touch my naked body out of respect.

He was 19 and didn't want to push the limits, though I didn't mind. He viewed my body like art, the way every women's body should be viewed.

When he pulled back our eyes met. His were medium brown with gold and green flecks scattering around his pupil, then as you went out you saw they were rimmed almost black. They were truely memorizing. Almost football shaped but with more pointy ends. His jawline seemed sharp enough to cut diamonds, along with his hallowed cheekbones.

He sighed slightly and looked down at me, his hands on my hips. "Hey baby girl." He smiled, his Ukrainian accent had gotten thicker since I saw him last. Nicknames were a must have on his end.

"Hey Denis." I smiled back at him. Sometimes our accents fought. Ukrainian against Australian.

"What brings you back here sweetheart? Did he hurt you again?" His eyes hardened and his grip tightened on my hips.

My hands found his and squeezed them lightly. "No, Denis. Its not him." I shivered.

"Then what is it? Come on you're freezing, I'll make you some coffee." He lead me to the kitchen. Though I wasn't in front of a mirror I could feel that my cheeks were rosy and my freckles popped out more.