Waking up to the sound of banging on the door— and nonstop ringing— is the most least pleasant thing in the world. Especially when you have a hangover that can put Lindsay Lohan's to shame. That too, paired with panic from past traumatic experiences.
Grumbling, I rolled out of bed— ready to drag my feet out of my room before stopping abruptly at my appearance in the parallel mirror.
"I'm coming!" I yelled out hoarsely, hoping whoever was making the ruckus heard me.
I ambled into the washroom, shoving off my costume and pulling on one of his discarded tees.
Using some cleanser, I splashed lukewarm water on my face, wiping off the makeup residue in one go. I gurgled some mouthwash hurriedly, spitting it out as it started burning.
I let my hair be, leaving it in it's messy wavy locks, tugging down the shirt to cover my underwear clad ass, and trudged out of my bedroom.
The ringing had lessened, but the occasional hit against the door continued as I made my way to it.
I yanked it open, annoyed, "Wha—"
He stepped forward, "I'm not deciding an end—I'm not."
An end to wh— memories of last night rushed through my mind.
You don't get to say that. You don't get to decide an end to a story that hadn't even fucking begun.
He took two quick steps closer to me, encasing the back of my neck in one hand, the other tugging me to him by the waist.
"But I am working on a beginning." He stated firmly, his breath falling on my lips with the minimal distance between us.
And with that his lips collided with mine.
This wasn't like our last kiss, this was rough— a clash of mouths — his arm wrapped around my waist, bringing my body flush against his, as his other hand tangled itself in my hair.
I responded reactively— pouring my anger, hurt, and want into the kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, raising on my toes.
And we continued until I couldn't breathe.
I pulled back, breathing harshly, "You're not gonna run away again are you?" I asked accusingly.
He tugged me to him, "No — fucking — way." He said between kisses.
I nodded, pulling away slightly and leaning my forehead against his chest, listening to his frantic heartbeat.
A moment passed before I smiled against it, enjoying the heavy beating.
He bumped his chin on my head, groaning, "I can feel you smiling."
I threw my head back, laughing lightly.
He grinned down at me, "Fuck off, I was— am, nervous."
I was about to reply but I yawned instead. What time is it, there's barely any light out.
"Bane, what time is it?" I asked with narrowed eyes.
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Uh, it's around 7am..."
"Seriously!" I exclaimed, "You couldn't have waited, oh I don't know, four more hours?"
I need sleep, desperately, the noise had forced me—
YOU ARE READING
[I marched up to him, "Where the hell were you? I thought something happened to you? Did you not care enough to..." My rambling was cut short when a pair of warm, slightly chapped lips collided with mine. Fuck. That's one way to go about it.] ____...