Fetish | c.h

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Are you okay?

I'm okay.

Are you sure?

Mhm.

It's been a little more than two weeks since my last acquaintance with Calum. Those hungry glares remain a memory in the back my skull — an alluring permanent episode that will loop for what it seems the rest my mortality. I'm not sure if it's a positive sensation to allow these episodes occur so often, but somehow it causes my chest to scrunch and my heart to smite within my body. Definitely positive for what it's worth.

But I yet again observe my reflection. It's even more voluptuous then before. My thighs spill, my upper arms practically drape, my self consciousness regarding my image at an all time high, but my mental poise at an all time low. I'm a mess. And after all this pondering I slip into my usual night wear consisting of surprisingly loose gym shorts and a snug tank top and enter my bed to wrap my large jelly-like of a body with my bed sheets. The lids of my eyes close, but my brain forbade me to sleep.  Suddenly the dark locks of hair, almond like eyes, make their way into my head again. I couldn't erase the characteristics from my brain . . . He was just too irresistible.

  The thought of his arms holding me in an embrace. The thought of waking up next to him suddenly seemed like a necessity. The idea of him, simply couldn't erase from my thoughts. I have developed a phase of infatuation with this devil of a man and I had no feeling of guilt having so.

Having to live with my parents made it difficult to pleasure myself to Calum, especially with these 'Papier-mâché' walls. I needed him. I truly did. And I do still.

"Fuck it," I quickly escape the wraths of my bed sheets and slip on a pair of worn out slippers. With quiet strides I lurk my way out of my room and into the corridors of my small home. With flashy gestures, I collect a box of assorted chocolates and the keys to my fathers car and I was out the door and down the flight of stairs, fleeing the apartment complex completely.

I can feel the palms of hands excel moisture, the joints of my knees trembling from a near panic attack. But I had to see him. Although I didn't have a proper license to maneuver my fathers vehicle, I truly, and with all due respect, did not care. Utilizing my nervous hands I make my way out the lot and into the road. The butterflies in my stomach were making their way out of my ass.

To the best of my memory I begin to travel towards my desired destination. Every stop and every turn increasing the anticipation of my wants.

Hamptonville Apartments. I kept the name in my head. It was times like these I wish I had some form of cellular device to access a modern GPS , but all I had was the outdated GPS device in my father's 1999 Ford Expedition. On the other hand, the scenery around me became familiar and I was able to recognize exactly where I was going. A rush of relief consumed my nerves when I saw a sign reading "Hampton Square Apartments". Swiftly I merge in the appropriate lane and enter the neighborhood. Without even doubting my abilities of recognition, I find the exact the apartment building and carelessly park into the lot, taking up two parking spaces. Following my antsy gesture, I exit the vehicle and rush towards the appropriate apartment complex. When finally, I completed that one flight of stairs, I am met with my destination. Suddenly, everything grew silent.

Go in. The voice in my head mentally nudged me. My heart began to thump so deeply that I could feel the impulses in my ear drums. Finally, with all will power and gut, I place three shaky knocks onto the door. My heart was ticking rapidly; I feel as though my heart is going to project itself out of my mouth. Uncertainty grew over the acknowledgement of my knocks, so I knocked again, this time with sharp intonation.