“Somebody mixed my medicine
I don't know what I'm on
Somebody mixed my medicine
Now baby its all gone
Somebody mixed my medicine
And somebody's in my head again
And somebody mixed my medicine again.”
(Welcome to the song that inspired the term ‘medicine’ in this story.)
A/N: This is part of a double update. Read the previous chapter first if you haven't already x
***
The second the Stall door is shut, it’s like being stuck in a tiny cage with a wild animal.
I’m being pinned against the door by Harry’s hips, my hands are being pinned above my head while his mouth attacks mine, a kiss where there is nothing gentle or tender about it. It’s rough, hard and hungry; so intense I whimper at the feeling but it’s muffled by our lips clashing together.
That helpless fragile demeanor he had moments before is nowhere to be seen, it’s been shoved down and he’s reacting solely with his body, taking control of the one thing he can while his emotions ravage his insides and minds with things he can’t cope with.
His other hand slides from my rib cage, up over my chest as he takes his time palming and groping at the flesh there before his hand is coming up to my throat and his fingers dig into the sides of it; pressing me harder against the door.
The small space in this stall feels like there’s more heat than when I was in the centre of a collective of sweaty grinding bodies; it feels like trying to breathe inside a sauna.
The alcohol in my system is only adding to the dizziness in my head and my skin burning; mixing with the adrenaline in my body that’s only pumping hard from the crazed tension exploding from Harry.
All of his movements are fast, delirious and lacking any shred of composure; and I don’t know if it's the remnants of the atmosphere from tonight but it feels more obscene, there’s that part of me that I know now has always been there - the one that Harry tries to tempt out. And it’s the part that welcomes this side of him, not the part that’s in pain; but the dark part that seems to recognise my own.
Whether this is the healthiest choice or not at the moment isn’t what’s on my mind, it’s how good it feels. How good he feels and I know he is feeling the same - I can hear it in the low groan that’s rolling up into his throat from deep in his chest when his grip tightens around my throat, and his hips press firm against me to get some kind of friction.
His mind is solely focused on how this feels, not what's trying to drag him into that abyss of agony that was clawing at his mind.
The name of the club seems fitting right now, because it's a placebo effect for him.
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Stall 2
Fanfiction*Story containes MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT* THIS IS A SEQUEL / PART 2. Read "Stall" before this book, unless you just like spoiling things for yourself. If that's the case, you do you boo. "Something can be both delicate and violent" *** Harry lowe...
