My eyes flutter open, a yawn takes over my face as my eyes start to adjust to the dark room.
I feel something soft fisted in my fist and look to see my hands fisted on someone's sweatshirt. Something heavy is draped over my waist, and my legs feel slightly numb.
I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion as I look up and my eyes widened, my body freezing all movements. I don't blink. I don't breathe. I don't move.
It's Kingston...
I'm sleeping with Kingston.
Holy fuck I'm sleeping with Kingston!
I blink my eyes, making sure that this isn't all a dream.
It's not.
Oh my god.
Oh my god!
When did he get back?
When did he get in bed with me?
When did he start holding me?
I un-fist my right hand, pulling them back from Kingston's sweatshirt gently running my hand up his muscular arms, to his shoulders, to his neck.
My eyes follow the path my hand takes, soaking in the image of Kingston laying next to me with his arms around me. Feeling him so close to me.
He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping.
The way his face stays relaxed and calm while he takes easy breaths, the way he looks with his eyes closed, half moons against his tan skin showing in the moonlight.
I love how heavy his arms feel around my waist, I glance down to my legs to see them tangled with his.
No wonder I can't feel my legs.
I look back up at Kingston, gently tracing his face with my pointer finger, pulling in every detail of him that I can.
I never want to forget.
I gently pull my arm back down in front of me and tuck it back between my chest and Kingston's, nuzzling my face back into his chest.
This is nice.
We should do this every day.
No. Only cause he's asleep and can't see what I doing.
Aw c'mon, imagine waking up next to him every morning!
My thoughts really hate me and don't know real life.
He's a player. He just wants a good grade, not me. He doesn't want me—
"You know if you don't move I might start to think that you like me," Kingston grumbles out, startling me.
I yank back from him out of surprise, backing away from him, feeling the mattress under my hand. I go to pull myself farther away when my hand misses the edge of the mattress and I topple down to the cold wood floor.
My back makes contact with the wood first, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut as pain rips across my back. Then my legs, then my head, making my head go slightly numb and my vision fuzzy. My legs starting to tingle and prickle form the blood flow.
Kingston chuckles as I groan on the floor, letting myself lay there as the pounding in my head slowly starts to fade.
I opened my eyes to see Kingston's head above mine as he's still on the bed. How does he move so fast so quietly on that squeaky mattress?
I sigh as I stand up and stumble slightly, my head throbbing now. I heard the mattress groan as Kingston rises from the bed.
I turn back to him, only to see his eyes trailing along my body.
Oh yeah. I'm in his clothes.
I tuck my hands away into the sweatshirt pocket and look at the clock.
It's 9:13 pm.
I furrow my brows "Have you had dinner?" The random question slips from my mouth before I could register it.
He cocks his head to the side "Why do you care?"
I scoff and turn around, heading into the bathroom to look at my hair.
He follows me. I feel his presence behind me before I see him behind me in the mirror.
Great. I look like shit.
I grab the hair tie holding my braid in place and yank it out of my hair, pulling my braid apart slowly. The small knots in my hair are mainly by my face so I take the plastic comb and start unknotting them.
Rustling with my hair caused the sweatpants I have on to fall a little farther down my waist, so the waistband sits on my hips, revealing the boxer's elastic band.
I flick my eyes back to the mirror to see Kingston's eyes glued to my hips. I keep unknotting my hair, watching him in the mirror.
His jaw ticks, his eyes slightly wide, he licks his lips, and he fists his hands. He probably didn't know that I stole his boxers.
His clouded over eyes met mine in the mirror. His gray eyes now much darker, his pupils blown large as he licked his lips again, holding eye contact with me.
The look he's giving me makes my skin alight with a burning fire.
"Are you...wearing my boxers?" He asks, his voice a notch lower and raspy.
I keep combing through the knots in my hair, swallowing the rest of my spit, my mouth now dry. I don't know why, the knots are gone.
I nod my head but in a flash Kingston was pressed up against me from behind, his hand wrapping around my neck, tilting my head back to look me in the eyes.
My hand opened, the plastic comb clattering to the ground on the tile as he growls against my lips "Words. I want words." He commands.
I gulp again, my pulse racing. I can hear my heart and feel it in my throat, thumping so loud I think Kingston might actually hear it.
"Y-Yes," I stammer, cursing myself mentally for showing weakness. He smirks, I feel it as he kisses my jaw, making me shiver in anticipation.
He should do this all the time.
No. He's just trying to get a good grade.
I can't give in.
But the jaw kisses are so tempting! Just one time?
No! I can't!
I'm going to pull away from him any minute n—
A whimper leaves my lips as he pulls the elastic band of his boxers and lets it snap back at my skin. I suck in a breath of air, my skin thrumming with a sting.
He chuckles in my ear and gently licks my lobe, making me pull my bottom lip between my teeth to stop myself from letting a noise break free.
His grip on my neck tightens, his rough palm scratching my voice box. He nibbles at my ear, nipping at the skin and pulling it between his teeth. "Oh? What's this? Don't have anything to say now bookworm?" He teases.
I grit my teeth "You know what—Oh—" he sucks at the skin of my neck gently, making my words vanish from my mouth.
This feels incredible.
He hums against my neck, the noise vibrating through me. I shiver as he slips his left hand up underneath his sweatshirt that I borrowed and his fingertips brush over the scabbing cut just under my breasts.
I wince away from his fingers and they twitch slightly against my skin before he gently places his palm over the cut.
His eyes are shut as his jaw ticks. I sigh, the warmth of his palm on my cut makes it feel so much better. His gentle touch, the warmth of his body against mine.
"I killed him." Kingston ground out, his eyes opening as he met mine in the mirror. The air in my lungs flew out so fast I was left with none.
I gulp, he felt it against his palm as we never broke eye contact. "W-What?" I stammer again. What is it with me and stammering today?
He makes you nervous.
"I killed him." Kingston repeated. Something in his gaze told me he wasn't lying. And that...that didn't scare me.
I let out a shaky breath "Why?" no 'Oh my god are you a psycho!?' or 'You're insane!'. His eyes widen in surprise at my question, probably expecting a scream and run away.
His hand that's wrapped around my neck slowly glides over my collar bone, trailing over my left shoulder and down my arm, making its way to my forearm.
His fingertips, warm and gentle, brushing over the scabbing cut on my left wrist and my nose scrunched slightly to show the discomfort.
He gently brought it up to his face, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
He places gentle kisses along the whole cut, making my eyes widen as goosebumps cover my whole body from head to toe.
Whoever made the phrase 'Kiss it better' has never met Kingston.
He truly can kiss it better.
He hums gently as he does a twice over with his lips, making sure I was leaning against him by the time his lips detached from the slash on my wrist.
"He hurt you. He touched what's not his." he tells me, holding eye contact with me as he kisses my cut one last time for good measure.
I'm pretty sure my knees are nonexistent.
"But—I'm not yours." I try, watching his eyes harden slightly as his palm gently grazes over my cut again, soothing the throbbing haze of pain.
He sets his head on my shoulder "What you don't know can't hurt you." He whispers to me. A rosy blush covering my cheeks.
Fuck you body.
No fuck Kingston. He's the reason you're blushing.
Oh, that sounds like a good idea, making out with him on his bed while slowly yanking each other's clothes off—
Okay! Enough!
I sigh gently, going to say something back to him but there was a loud knock on Kingston's bedroom door. I jump slightly, causing Kingston's hand to touch my cut a little too hard.
I hiss as my hand goes down to cover Kingston's hand that's still on my ribs, right under my breasts.
"What!?" Kingston yells from the bathroom, not moving from our position.
"Dinners ready King when you're ready! And bring the Amara girl!" A female voice calls from behind Kingston's door to his room.
"Okay! Be down soon!" He yells back. Once he made sure there was no more yelling going on between them he went back to gently rubbing my slash under my breasts.
I pull my hair tie off my wrist and gently step out of Kingston's hold, tying my hair up into a quick ponytail and walking back out into Kingston's bedroom.
It still takes me by surprise.
I walk over to the left bedside table and grab my phone, checking it to see a text from my dad. Panic dashes through me but I shove the panic down.
"Who was that?" I ask, spinning to face Kingston who was still following me closely. I stuff my phone into the sweatpants pocket.
He sighs heavily "My mom."
I nod, picking at my nails slightly, glancing down at my sock covered feet, then at my nails again.
I'm an anxious person. I don't want Kingston's mom to hate me. She might, I mean I am a little annoying. I can talk too much and over do things—
Kingston's warm hand gently slips around my waist gently "Don't worry bookworm, she'll like you." he reassures me.
I hope so. I want her to like us so she doesn't think that we fuck Kingston on the weeken—
Enough!
I sigh, looking up at him and meeting those dark grey eyes that fade into light grey, the moonlight shining in through his French doors making a little star catch the corner of his eye.
He starts to guide me towards the door, stuffing his left hand in his sweatpants pocket as he keeps his right hand around my waist.
He opens the door and leads me out and back into the sage painted walls and pictures hanging in gold picture frames, walking with me the whole way.
He doesn't take his arm away from my waist, or speed up his pace.
He just stays by me, gently guiding me down the steps and under a beautiful archway and into the largest kitchen I've ever seen.
I get a whiff of something that smells amazing. My stomach growls at the smell.
Kingston pauses in his steps and looks down at me "Have you eaten lunch today? Since you sit outside and read?" He asks me, his eyes scanning my face.
Lie.
Lie.
Lie.
"Actually I haven't eaten at all in 2 days," I blurt.
Damn it.
Kingston glares down at me "You have to eat Amara." He tells me in a firm tone. I nod, but he just doesn't understand.
How am I supposed to tell him that eating is something that doesn't happen often for me? Maybe an apple if I'm lucky. I can't touch the fridge at my house and the school cafeteria is too loud and crowded for me.
He pulls me through the kitchen, some maids pausing their work and casting weird glances over at me. I look away from them, keeping my head down.
"Get back to work and keep your glances to yourself." Kingston orders them and they quickly get back to making the delicious smelling food.
He leads me under another archway and into a large and beautiful dining room. The table can easily sit 12 people, but only 4 of the chairs are accompanied by a Grey.
"James and Julius stop with your ruckus!" A beautiful black haired lady scolds the two boys I played with earlier today.
They stop with their arm wrestling and look up to see me. Grins took over their tiny faces as they leapt from their chairs and sprint over to me, grabbing onto my legs.
"Huh?" The lady questions as Mason smiles at me and Dawson waves in greeting with a stubborn face. I stick my tongue out at Dawson and he chuckles, rolling his eyes at me.
"Princess!" Mason called to me in greeting.
"Smartass." Dawson teased at me with a smirk.
"Pretty lady!" The 2 twins yell from my legs.
The black haired lady turns in her chair and gasps, a smile taking over her face as she stands from her chair and hustles her way over to me.
"Shoo! Give her some room!" She scolded James and Julius again. They nod and back away from me, going back to their seats.
She turns back to me with the sweetest smile in the whole world "Hi my dear! I'm Kingston's mother, you must be Amara?" She asks me. I nod, looking up at Kingston "You never told me your mom was this pretty." I state, giving him a scolding look.
Either I'm seeing things or his cheeks darkened slightly.
I think I just made Kingston Grey blush.
His mother gasped, pulling me in for a hug "Oh my dear! You're just a beautiful!" She responds, wrapping her arms around my torso.
I heard a gruff "What's going on in here?" Sounds like Kingston but a tad older than Dawson.
Mrs. Grey let's go of me and I turn back to Kingston, only he wasn't standing by himself. An older man with short brown hair and gray streaks stands next to Kingston. They're about the same height, though Kingston's maybe an inch taller. The man's face looks stern, but his eyes soft, wrinkles present on his face; not many, just a few.
"This is Amara," Kingston told the man, then looks towards me "This is my dad." I nod and hold my right hand out for a handshake.
He looks at me with narrowed eyes and then accepted my handshake. A nice firm handshake later, a smile overtakes his features.
"I like her." he turns to Kingston and pats him on the back. Kingston's cheeks darken and I can't believe it.
Kingston Grey blushes.
My Kingston Grey blushes.
Nope. He isn't mine.
Both his parents smile at him and then walk to the table. Mr. Grey pulls out a chair for Mrs. Grey and then push it in for her before he goes and sits himself at the head of the table.
I feel an arm snake along my waist and smell the familiar scent of Kingston as he guides me towards a chair at the table.
He pulls my chair out for me as I gave him a smile as I sat down, he gently pushes the chair in for me and then taking a seat right next to me.
His right hand firmly plants itself on my left thigh, just above my knee. I like it when he's touching me.
Yeah because it feels like—
Don't you dare say it.
Fine.
Good.
James and Julius come and jump into their chairs while Mason and Dawson put their phones away and start chatting amongst everyone.
My left leg starts to bounce as I look around the table. I've never had dinner at someone else's house before.
Kingston's hand slides up farther onto my thigh and grips it tightly making my leg stop bouncing as I look over at him only to find him already looking at me.
'It'll be okay' he mouths to me and I nod slightly. His hand grips my thigh tightly. I can't help but glance down at his hand.
Holy fuck his hands—
Large and veiny, normally with rings scattered along all his long fingers.
I want them wrapped around my neck while he—
Okay. Enough. I'm tuning you out.
I look back up at him to see a smirk pulling at his lips. It's like he can read my thoughts and can't help but smirk.
I look back up at his parents and feel a pang of jealousy. Mrs. Grey was smiling as her husband holds her hand and kisses her knuckles gently and telling her about how a flower he saw earlier that day made him think of her.
I wish my parents were together and happy.
Mrs. Grey turned to look at me "So, Amara, tell us a little bit about yourself." She asks me with a smile.
I nod, shifting slightly in my seat. I can feel Kingston's stare on me. I let out a silent sigh "Well, I really enjoy reading and learning different languages. I know pretty much anything you can think of—" I was cut off.
"Tu connais le français?" His mother asks me.
(You know French?)
I smile and nod "Oui, j'aime vraiment la langue." I tell her and her smile only grows.
(Yes, I actually quite enjoy the language.)
"À quoi ressemblent tes parents?" She asks me and I feel myself stiffen slightly.
(What are your parents like?)
A gentle finger started tracing a pattern onto my thigh and I take another breath "Euh... ils sont divorcés et vivent séparés, ce n'est pas... le meilleur." I explain and her smile falls, sympathy coating her eyes.
(Um...they're divorced and live apart, it's not...the best.)
She places a hand over her heart "Oh ma chérie, je suis désolée, tu es la bienvenue ici à tout moment si tu en as besoin." I smile politely at her.
(Oh my dear I'm so sorry, you're welcome here anytime if you need.)
My heart warms and I feel like crying. That means so much to me. She has no idea.
"Merci Mme. Gris. Ça veut dire beaucoup." she nods at me with a sad smile and everyone else stares at us in confusion.
(Thank you Mrs. Grey. That means a lot.)
She sighs and looks back at me, I give her a smile as she changes the subject to how everyone's day was.
We all talk about our day, but even while Kingston was talking about his day, he kept glancing over at me with a worried glance.
He doesn't know what we said. But he understood enough of his mothers sympathetic look.
~~~~
I think I might've ate fourths.
The food was so good I couldn't help myself as I dug in until I physically couldn't eat anymore.
I lean back in my seat and sigh, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
This family is amazing. I don't know why anyone could be scared of theses softies. Although, their mom scares me more when she's stern.
James and Julius have ran off to play and now it's just me, Kingston, Mason, Dawson, and Mrs. Grey at the table. Mr. Grey got a phone call and had to leave for a business emergency.
Mason and Dawson are fighting over the best type of cars while Kingston stays quiet, looking at me as I speak with his mom about random things.
"I love the sage you painted the walls, what made you want to do it?" I ask her, she grins at me, her brown eyes alight with excitement.
"My favorite color has always been green, and it matches very well with my favorite flower." she informs me and I nod "What's your favorite flower?"
"Sunflowers," she tells me "Yours?"
I glance at Kingston, who was stilling watching me.
"Black roses." I tell her, her eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"Why black roses?" She asks, confusion clear in her voice.
I smile sweetly at her "Black is such a beautiful color to me, everything starts with black, the night sky all the way down to a hair tie. My love for the color black runs deep, and roses are just so naturally beautiful. Black roses are both naturally beautiful and dark, both sides equally beautiful, but one side is taken differently." The words just randomly fell out of my mouth. But it's the truth.
Black roses are so beautiful.
Kingston's grip on my thigh tightens as his mother's lips part slightly as shock slightly clouds her eyes.
I look over at Kingston and then back to his mother, both staying silent for a while, just looking at me.
She clears her throat, her eyes flicking to an antique clock in the wall.
"Goodness! It's almost 10 pm. You should really get going my dear, you have school tomorrow! I'm so glad I was able to meet you, you know Kingston talks a lot about y—"
"Mom!" Kingston basically yells, she giggles and stopped talking.
She gave me a wink and then pushed her chair back, standing up with a smile "I'll see you soon my dear."
I smile and stand up to, going over to her and giving her a hug. Tucking my head away close to her ear, I take a breath in "S'il vous plaît, ne dites rien d'autre que... J'ai vraiment besoin de dire à quelqu'un que mes parents m'abusent. Et Kingston deviendrait fou si je le lui disais." I whisper to her. I hope she understands.
(Please don't say anything but... I really need to tell someone that my parents abuse me. And Kingston would go crazy if I told him.)
She seems to freeze with her arms around me "Merci de me l'avoir dit. Venez chaque fois que vous le pouvez et je garderai des fournitures pour vous dans la salle de bain de Kingston. Vous serez toujours en sécurité ici." She whispers back in a reassuring tone. I sigh relieved that someone finally knows.
(Thank you for telling me. Come over whenever you can and I'll keep some supplies for you in Kingston's bathroom. You'll always be safe here.)
"Thank you so much." I whisper, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She pulls away from me, her eyes glossy. She gives me a sad smile before she let go and scurries off.
Mason and Dawson stop arguing as they watch Mrs. Grey walk off.
I let out a shaky sigh and turn back to Kingston, putting on a fake smile for him. He looks at me with worry coating his eyes.
Shit.
He walks up to me and gently cups my face in his hands.
Don't break.
Don't cry.
Don't sob.
Don't snap.
I give him a smile and he rubs his thumb along my cheek bone before hooking a careful arm around my waist and dropping his hand and leading us away.
I follow by him closely, tucking my hands away in the sweatshirt pocket.
He leads me to the front door and passes me my white sneakers, I furrow my brows in confusion "Don't you want me to change back to my clothes?" I ask him quietly.
He looks up at me with his eyes soft as he slips on some black slides and grabs a black lanyard with a gold clip on the end, holding fancy car keys on the end.
He shakes his head as he kneels down in front of me and helps me slide my sneakers on. He picks my left foot up and places it on his knee "Thank you..." I mumble as he ties the laces on my left shoe, gently setting my foot back down and doing the same with my right.
Once he stands back up he looks at me gently, as if asking for permission to touch me. I nod gently and he pulls me into his side as he sticks the keys into his pocket, the soft black lanyard dangling out of his sweatpants pocket.
He leads me through the halls again, making me dizzy with the amount of space in this damn mansion.
"How the fuck do you remember where you're going? This place is massive." I gape at the windows and paintings as he leads me down a hallway I've never seen before.
He chuckles, gently circling his thumb along my waist "I've lived in this house my whole life. The more you're here the better you get at maneuvering through this house."
I bump into his side before finally giving in and leaning my head on his side, walking close to him.
The hallway leads to a white door. God knows where this door goes.
Kingston reaches out and turns the doorknob, pushing it open to reveal any car persons dream. My mouth drops open as my try to take it all in.
Expensive cars parked all around the large garage, motorcycles lined up in a special parking spaces for them, trucks, cars, convertibles are all parked around the garage. All either white, silver or black. Or a black or white with an accent color.
"Oh my fucking god." I breathe as I yank the lanyard out of Kingston's pocket and hit the unlock button.
A black Bugatti La Voiture Noire beeped back at me. The tire rims were a dark red, the handles and outlining of the doors and hood of the car the same dark blood red.
I squeal, jumping up and down excitedly as Kingston walks up behind me with a chuckle. "You like it bookworm?" He asks me, circling his arms around my waist gently.
"Oh my god yes!!" I yell, spinning around and gasping slightly with how close our faces are. His nose is maybe an inch from mine, his gray eyes lock on mine as I stare into his. I gently reach my hands up and set them on his chest, fisting and un-fisting his sweatshirt he has on in my hands.
His lips tilt up again and I still can't help but lose my breath. Whenever he does it, it's so unexpected.
And it's such a nice thing to look at.
He's nice to look at in general.
I feel my body heat up with embarrassment, my cheeks burning hot as it spreads down my neck.
"Oh?" Kingston gruffly spoke, a smirk across his features "Do I make you nervous?"
He knows the fucking answer her just wants me to admit it.
"No. You don't make me nervous, it's just hot in here." I try but it's like 40 degrees in here. He's not gonna by that.
His eyebrow raises in question but says nothing more as he walks me around to the passengers seat and opens the door for me, holding my right hand gently as I duck into the car. Once I was situated in the comfortable seat Kingston closed the door for me.
I watched as he crosses to the front of the car and then hops into the drivers seat, sticking his keys into the ignition and turning it on.
The engine roars to life as I drag my fingers along the exterior of the car.
It's all dark black leather with accents of deep blood red, the radio surrounded by fancy buttons and knobs.
I gasp and Kingston looks at me with a confused face.
It has heated seats.
This car has fucking heated seats!
"Heated seats!" I squeal in excitement as I reach forward and press the button as it immediately started to warm to a warm temperature.
He chuckles again at me and turns the radio on, turning the blaring rap music down as I shuffle in the warming seats.
"Are you crazy?" He asks me, the dark casting long shadows on Kingston's face and I look over at him, the only light coming from the radio and the headlights shining through the windshield.
I nod as I yank the sleeves of Kingston's sweatshirt over my hands and tuck them into the front pocket as I let out a slight moan of relaxation.
Kingston's head snaps over to me in a flash at the noise I just made. I bite my lip as I watch him from the corner of my eye.
He shifts in his seat, lifting his hips and pulling at his sweatpants as he winces slightly.
'Fuck' he mouthed to himself, his head turning back to me. I snuggle farther into the warming seat, the heat radiating through me.
It feels like Kingston's wrapped around me.
He looks over at me one last time before he shifts into reverse and pushes a button on the mirror above his head.
The garage door groaned as it opens for Kingston. The metal creaking against the beams.
Once the garage door was finished opening, Kingston backs out, keeping his left hand on the wheel and the other resting just within reach of my thigh.
He backs up into the driveway then shifts into drive, driving forward down the long light white concrete driveway.
I glance over at Kingston who is focused on driving.
He looks so good. The dark moons rays shining in through the window and enlightening his face, shadows showing his cheek bones and around his gray eyes, making them stand out in the gentle light from the radio. He flicks the headlights on high as he pulls out onto the road, turning to the right and heading down the road covered in rich houses and expensive cars.
"Can I...hold your hand?" He asks out of the blue, hesitance clear in his voice. I turn my head and look over at him. He's staring straight ahead at the road but I see his hand slowly pushing towards me.
I pull my left hand out of the sweatshirt pocket and pull my hand out from the fuzzy black material and hold my hand steady on my thigh for him to take.
His hand inches closer as he struggles to keep his eyes on the road. I can tell, his eyes keep wanting to snap over to me to see what I'll do.
I slowly reach my hand out the rest of the way and wrap my small hand around his large one. His hand could engulf mine if he wanted it too.
He gently spreads my fingers apart and laces his fingers with mine, closing them around my hand. I gently close mine as much as I can around his and lean back into the warm seat.
This feels so nice.
It does. I hate to admit how much it does.
I relax into the moment, not wanting it to end as I watch the houses go by in a blur, my hand wrapped in Kingston's as he drives me home in his clothes.
Why do I have to hate him?
I wish I didn't.
~~~~
"Turn here," I tell him as he slows, turning onto my road.
I suck in a breath as we start to pass familiar houses to me. All run down, windows broken, cars damaged, and paint peeling.
He glances over at me, but I don't think he's wanting to laugh at me because of where I live. Maybe he's just worried.
"You? Live here?" He asks. I turn my head and look at him, nibbling my lip "Not everyone is as lucky as you are Kingston, we wish, but we don't get." I tell him. He just nods as he focuses his eyes back on the road.
I watch as we approach my house, nervous. What will he think?
Since when do you care?
I...I don't know.
I point at my house, the tattered two story. The windows broken, door hanging off its hinges, the porch leaning in, the barely front yard covered in dirt.
Shit.
My dads run down car is sat in the driveway, the bumper close to falling off the old run down SUV.
My back straightens, and my eyes widen. My hand tightens around Kingston's and he looks over to me. His eyebrows furrow in confusion "What's wrong?" He asks me. I forgot about the text.
A shaky breath slips past my lips as I loosen my grip on his hand but don't let go. We've been holding hands since the start of the drive and I don't want the drive to end here.
"Oh, I just...didn't expect my dad to be home." I lied. It's late, too late for him to not be home from the bar drunk. I should've known.
He nods as he pulls up to my driveway and came to a stop at the curb. He starts to unbuckle, reaching out to open his door when I panic.
I throw my hand out to stop him "No!" I tell him. He freezes where he is, turning and looking at me with furrowed brows and confusion clouded eyes.
"I was going to walk you to the door?" He tells me, but it came out as more of a question.
I shake my head, breathing slightly hard "Uh—that's nice of you but you really don't have too," I try, maybe he'll take that as a reason to stay in the car.
If my dad sees Kingston I'm dead.
He shakes his head at me "No, I do have to." he said, his eyes set firm as he scans my face.
"Why can't I walk you to your door?" He asks, worry but anger rising in his voice.
Panic.
"Um...my dads sleeping! And the porch is really loud, I know where to step but you don't," god I really hope he's passed out.
Kingston's brows furrow even more "Just show me where to step." His voice firm. He's confused as to why he can't walk me to the door.
I didn't think it would be this big of a debate.
"No! It's...complicated! And it's late you should probably go home—" he shakes his head at me.
"What are you so worried about?" He asks, his eyes scanning my face. "Do you not want me to meet your parents?" He asks.
Ouch. That hurt.
I can't tell him my parents are divorced. I can't tell him I get abused.
I can't tell him.
"N-No it's not that! I just..." I trail off, trying to find the right words.
"Don't want to be seen with me. That's fine." He says, his voice bitter.
I wince, pulling my hand back "No Kingston that's not it—" I try but he shakes his head.
"No I get it." He almost snapped at me, his eyes darker. Angrier.
"No Kingston please just listen to me—"
"Just get out!" He yells at me. I flinch back, my eyes glossing over. I hate getting yelled at.
It scares me.
And it makes me feel like I disappoint everyone.
His eyes widen as he sees my glossy eyes, he reaches his hand out "No Amara—" he tries but I shake my head this time.
"No...No it's okay," my voice cracks as I open the door and step out, he looks at me with guilt filled eyes "No please, I didn't mean—", I gave him a wobbly smile and closed the door, walking around the front of the hood and up my driveway.
The cold wind whips at my skin, I shiver and stick my hands inside the front sweatshirt pocket as I reach the porch.
A single tear slips down my cheek, I quickly wipe it away with the sleeves of Kingston's black sweatshirt.
I step up onto my porch and walk across the rotting wood. It creaks and groans under my feet as I slowly reach out for the doorknob.
I twist the door and pushed it open, stepping inside. It reeks of alcohol in here.
I close the door and turn around.
My dads figure is standing there, anger plastered on his face, breathing heavily. His breath smells of whiskey.
He raises his hand, I flinch as his hand comes down on my cheek. A searing pain spread across my cheek.
I wish I never got out of Kingston's car.
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