Story Of A Lonely Girl

Twenty

-Lucifer's POV-

"You seriously bought me hair dye?", said Tom as we got off the bus and walked home. "Yeah and I'm fucking dyeing it today whether you like it or not," I said finally opening my front door. We dropped our backpacks next to the couch in my living room floor and wentz straight to the kitchen.

"Damn I could really use a cold beer right now," he said.

"Hey mom? Mom? Anybody fucking home?!", I yelled through my house, only to make sure nobody was here. My parents used to drink a lot, and they obviously kept it out my reach and never let me drink. I thought this would be an exception since we have guests.
"The alcohol's in the fridge. Oh and I think there's some hidden whiskey at the far back of that cabinet," I said. Although they always kept it out of y reach, I knew perfectly where they hid it.
I prepared six peanut butter sandwiches and went upstairs to my bedroom. Tom followed behind with a medium sized bottle of whisky. We settled our food on my desk. "So, first things first Tom. I've gotta wash your hair."

"Yay?", he said causing me to snort in an unfeminine way. After I washed his hair in the bathroom sink, I dyed his hair successfully and after that, we went back to my bedroom because we were starving.

" Hey I told you blue would look cute on you!", I said admiring his slightly damp head.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I love this color so freakin' much. Thanks Lucie."

"No problem, now let's eat cause I'm starving", I said sitting on my bedroom floor. As always, we talked about everything- school, life, family, music, space. Tom had already started drinking and I had never tried whiskey before in my life. I decided to drink a bit of the toxic liquid, because, what the hell? Mom won't even notice (or at least I hope she doesn't).

I took the bottle away from Tom to sip a bit. The stench was pretty strong but the beverage seemed quite delicious. I took a sip. It wasn't bad, wasn't bad at all. I took another sip. I felt more comfortable talking to Tom when I drank the whiskey. Another sip. I realized I was suddenly crying but I don't recall why. Another sip, another and another. The previously unopened bottle of alcohol finally lowered it's content to the half.
I drank half a bottle of whiskey; it's bottle being about twice the size of my hand. I was starting to feel very dizzy and felt tears streaming down my face as I talked to Tom. I was barely conscious; I couldn't make out the words I was saying. I felt like a totally different person, as if I were in my own body but someone else was taking control of me, my actions, my words.
I kept talking nonsense; or apparently it wasn't nonsense to Tom or else he would've laughed or shut me up, by throwing me a pillow or something, by now.

-Tom's POV-

She seemed like a wreck. I had never seen her like this before. Tears making her eyeliner run, puffy eyes and messy hair. The girl with the lonely eyes. I didn't know this was her all along.
Lucie talked to me about her depression, about her family, how she got bullied in her old school and how kids treat her now.

“I've spent so much time trying to convince myself that it's okay to feel this way, but then I just end up giving up and harm myself all over again.” she said between sobs, “It never ends. I hate this life. This isn't life at all,” she said.
I tried hugging her for her to at least make her feel like she wasn't alone, but she would always end up pushing me away and saying “I don't need to be saved” between giggles and sobs. It broke my heart to see her like this.

By that time I had obviously took the bottle away from her and hid it under my shirt- she wouldn't notice anyway cause she was too drunk.
I slowly picked her up from the floor and laid her on the bed. She didn't look drunk anymore, she just looked sad. I decided to make her smile by tickling her. She tossed and turned; also almost accidentally kicked me in the balls. I pinned her arms above her head so she would stop moving. I loved to make her smile, her smile was so genuine; and for a moment she tricked me and it almost seemed as if she were happy and all her problems had gone away.

But I was wrong. She was the same girl with the sad fake smile once I stopped tickling her. Her eyes met mine and she spoke. “But I'm still not enough for you, Tom!”, she randomly shouted as if we were talking about this subject earlier; which we weren't. “I'm fucking ugly, did you see my face?!”, she giggled madly, then pouted "I'm not enough for you".

All these sudden changes of humor made me realize she was still pretty drunk.

"H-hey, Luce? What would you say if I were to tell you that you're beautiful?", I hesitated, my heart racing at it's fastest.

"I'd say it back", she replied in a whisper. The distance between us suddenly became smaller with each breath. I felt her warm breath (which smelled like alcohol) millimeters afar from my face. I looked at her asking for permission. She closed her eyes and nodded once, slightly, but I understood perfectly.

My left hand which was gripping one of her wrists to stop her from squirming while I was tickling her, traveled down to her waist. Our lips crashed desperately. I didn't care if she was experienced or not in all of this kissing or making out thing; I just wanted to kiss her.
She knotted her hands through my now blue dyed hair as I nibbled on her lower lip and slipping my tongue between, tasting the whiskey which invaded her mouth.

We eventually pulled apart although our faces were still very close. I smiled and pecked her lips "Am I enough now?" she whispered like a six-year-old, smiling. I still had one of her arms pinned above her head, and the other one caressing her waist. I held a soft grip on her arm because I had previously noticed she had her wrists harmed.

She was hiding it all along, and didn't even tell me while being drunk. I touched the scars with my thumb, and I couldn't help feeling bad for her and for not having the courage to tell me. I would have never judged her. Instead, I took her arm and started softly kissing every scar. We were still laying down on the bed, me on top of her. I felt her body tense and shiver at the touch of my lips to her damaged skin. She finally relaxed, and as I slowly let go of her arm, she hugged my neck very hard causing me to almost fall on top of her.

“Yes,” I eventually said, “Yes you are enough to me, Lucie.” I pecked her lips one last time.

“I love you, Tom” she giggled, pretty much wasted from the booze. I witnessed while she slowly passed out, before falling asleep under me; hopefully dreaming of paradise while I stared at her lovingly and caressed her hair.