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Chapter 16- Vulnerability
"And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now"
Mama and dada, mommy and daddy, mother and father, or mom and dad, it seems as though the names for parents embark on a journey through innocence, as the child grows older.
"Mommy," and "daddy," are childlike references to parents, and tend to be changed.
Call me crazy, but I find it to be heartbreaking when the names change. I see it as a sign of loss, the loss of innocence and the weakening of a relationship.
We are brought into the world pure.
For the very first second we enter the world, we know nothing but love.
Unfortunately, in order to survive we must be altered and molded into something that this world will accept.
Innocence is lost and I swear to you it can never be found.
Now you tell me, I beg of you, tell me that the world is not fucked up? Tell me that one can live a pure life without being tainted by hatred and prejudice-
Because I would love to know if I could have avoided all this corruption.
The very thought sickens me.
Could I have been saved, salvaged from the ruin that was my life?
Whether or not I could have been, there's one thing I know now.
I have been beaten, broken, and abused.
Nothing can save me now.
Not even a devilishly handsome, rugged, brutal gang leader that has focused all his determination on saving his broken girl.
No, not even Sebastian King can save me.
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I remember the way my mom used to cry. How her shoulders would heave with every sob, and how for hours afterwards, she would hiccup and let out shaky sobs.
I remember how I would hold my small hands over my ears, hoping to drown out her screams of pain.
But the part I remember most is how she would act after it all.
How she would look at me, through heavy lips and glassy eyes, and give me a smile, telling me that, "It's okay, I'm okay. He loves me."
And when I was younger, I believed her. It wasn't like I had realized what was happening.
How could a six year old know that her father was abusive? How could she know that her mother was a drug addict? How could she possibly understand how cruel and unforgiving the world really was?
These were questions I had always asked myself.
How? Why? Could I have prevented it? Did I even try?
And in the end, despite everything, I always blame myself.
Maybe I could have stopped my father. Maybe I could have helped my mother. Maybe I could have been strong, but instead I was weak. I was pathetic and worthless.
I remember thinking of ways to try to stop my father. To divert his anger away from my mother, even more a mere second at the most.
That's what true desperation is.
Shockingly enough, it wasn't words, or my physical attempts that got my father to hesitate, and even stop a few times.
In the beginning, I had always thought it was all about staying strong, to never give up, and to never break down.
But how was I supposed to not break down?
It happened one night right after a job had gone severely wrong. Of course, I don't remember much, but they say that the most traumatic events will stay with you for life.
Haunting you.
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Flashback
My stomach clenched uncomfortably as her cries echoed from the room below. I shifted restlessly on my bed, while my hands gripped the sheets rather tightly.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
I was desperate to calm down.
Fear penetrated my soul, mixed with the nauseating sense of danger that coated over my in a suffocating manner.
The air felt thick around me, choking me as I struggled to find a sense of security.
'It will be okay, Evie, don't worry.' I shook my head slightly, a weak attempt to shake away my worry and fright.
My body lurched against the heated bed as a piercing scream echoed from downstairs. My eyes squeezed shut and my hands moved upwards to cradle my face while wiping the stray tears that leaked from my eyes.
And then I couldn't take it anymore.
I couldn't bear the misery that weighed down on me.
With one last deep breath, I peeled the covers from my shaking form. My hands trembled and I lightly placed my feet against the ground.
'Why is daddy so mad?' I asked myself, cringing as I heard her cries fill my ears. I couldn't comprehend why daddy would hurt mommy.
Wasn't he supposed to love her?
I slowly opened my door, wincing at the creaking noises that echoed from my actions. Slipping through the doorway, I glanced into Danny's empty room. I couldn't help but frown sadly. He never seemed to be home anymore, ever since he had started working, whatever that meant.
At the age of six even I could see that our family was being torn apart.
The tension was so painful that even I began to avoid my family.
It all started when my brother began working. Mommy told daddy that she didn't want him to, and that's when the first fight happened. Daddy told mommy to go shut up and let him make the choices, and that's when she started yelling.
My mommy always said I was like her, stubborn, impulsive, and determined as hell.
I flinched as her whimpers made their way to my ears, pounding within my head as I padded down the stairs towards the source of my misery.
I knew it was risky to just barge in like that, but I wasn't thinking. As I rounded the corner, I felt my stomach tighten anxiously.
My eyes widened as I took in the sight before me.
Chairs were overturned, papers were scattered across the room, and right in the center was my mommy.
Though her features were twisted in agony, her eyes told me otherwise. They were cold, empty, and emotionless. Glazed over as a side affect of the drugs she would indulge upon, as I would later come to know.
"Mommy!" I shrieked the second my daddy's hand entangled within her hair. Her expressed screamed the pain that he inflicted upon her.
My daddy froze for a split second, his dark eyes meeting my watery blue ones. I felt bile rise in my throat, making my gag weakly.
"Daddy?" My voice was no more than a whisper, but it held my daddy's attention for long enough.
He slowly released her hair, allowing her to collapse back onto the hard wooden floor. A cry left her lips as her feeble frame sank down, and her eyes closed in anguish.
The voice in the back of my head warned me to run. It was urging me to escape this cruelty, this sickening abuse.
"Go upstairs," my daddy urged me quietly, his eyes taking on a flicker of warmth. But something told me not to believe him.
When he was pulling mommy's hair he didn't seem too sorrowful, as he was now trying to convince me.
"But mommy..." I trailed off in a questioning tone. My eyes flickered back down to her broken form, scanning over the bruises that now scattered her exposed skin, a visual presentation of my daddy's wrath.
It was then that something jerked within me, and died. I barely had time to register what had happened before I felt something change inside of me.
Could distrust, hatred, and misery possibly be awakened within a person, and a six-year-old girl for that matter?
I let out a scream of desolation, as I stared into my mother's unfocused eyes, and my father's eyes that brewed with the utmost amount of distaste mixed with abhorrence.
This wasn't right.
The sob that broke through my parted lips made my entire body quake with terror and pain.
The sound was inhumane, and only frightened me further. It was bringing me to the verge of insanity, and then taunting me mercilessly.
I continued to cry and refused to stop even after my father pulled me into his arms and reassured me that it would be okay.
It was then I realized that I had a secret weapon, and shockingly enough, it was the one thing that I had felt die within me.
My humanity.
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Sickening, right?
He was the first one I decided to break away from.
My father was nothing but a monstrosity, something I would understand more and more as I grew older.
The fights grew, and soon enough, my father blamed my mother for absolutely everything that ever happened; every job gone wrong, every headache he received, and every measly annoyance that was brought upon him.
And then there was me, the girl who cried.
The girl, who had absolutely no idea what to do, but to cry and hope the man she once saw as her hero, would cease the abuse.
Hope, I often find myself laughing bitterly at the thought.
And though I continuously scoff at the pathetic thought of hope, I always seem to fall into its cycle.
In the beginning, I had hoped my father would return to the daddy I knew and loved. In the beginning, I hoped that my mother with glazed eyes would go back to being the mommy that would wipe my tears away and hold me whenever I needed to be comforted.
There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about that.
Sometimes I wonder if they had ever actually loved each other.
I'm no expert on the subject, but even I know the foundation of love is not made up of abuse, hatred, and pain.
She said I was just like her, and at this point I not sure whether to think that was a compliment or not.
She was once outgoing, impulsive, and carefree. But that's not what the world accepts, at least not in her case.
When the drug addiction started, I knew I had lost her.
I knew that no matter how many times I told her to leave my father and get clean, that would never actually happen.
So why? Why did I torture myself like that? I could have just left her and ignored her self-destruction all together, but I didn't.
I guess I just wanted to feel like I was trying, and that I had tried, that I had not just let her slip right through my fingers.
No matter how hard I cried, my tears wouldn't wash away the devastation that I came to acknowledge as my life.
Though crying may have served as some sort of protection for my mother, it did not prevent her undoing.
But could it have been prevented?
Could I have tried harder?
I didn't try with my father. I saw no redemption for him and it was as simple as that.
At the age of six, all ties were cut with my father. I became a puppet for him, and that seemed to be good enough for the both of us.
It wasn't until I had stared my mother straight into her glossy eyes only a week before her death that I decided it was over.
She was dead to me even when her heart still pumped and her cries echoed throughout the house.
She was a mother in name only, married to a monster in the flesh and blood.
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The cool air whipped around me, covering my body with a blanket of comfort. I sighed as I leaned back in the rocking chair, and wrapped the blanket tighter around myself.
Though it was seemingly warm outside, I felt like I was practically freezing. My frame shook with every breath I took, and I found myself constantly struggling to remain warm.
But I was not only cold physically.
The unforgiving wave of depression and come in the form of a tsunami, and it had left me drowning in a pit of despair.
At first I struggled.
Struggling proves to be the body's natural instinct when it comes to fighting for survival in situations as such.
Even when the mind gives in, the body does not.
How pitiful is that?
It's as if your body is fighting for you, unable to acknowledge your acceptance to death.
Every since the encounter a few nights ago, I had become numb.
The nightmares that followed provided me horrific flashbacks of my twisted past, and would bring me to a point of pure weakness, in which only then I would allow myself to feel.
And at my lowest point, it had always been Sebastian King to hold me in his arms and quiet my whimpers of pain.
In the midst of my misery, I would cry out the memories that would haunt me. I would plead him to ease the anguish of my past, and urge him to provide me with only a sliver of solace, anything to ease the treacherous ache within my heart.
I often found myself suffocating, writhing under the strong waves of depressed that washed over me.
I was breaking and there was nothing I could do to prevent it.
"Good lord Evelyn, you're going to catch a cold."
I turned my head in surprise, not realizing that someone had opened the front door while I was fighting my internal battle
I remained silent as Sebastian knelt in front of me, his brows knitted together in worry. His hand gently brushed against my cheek, but as soon as his touch came, it quickly disappeared.
He frowned slightly and shook his head, "You're cold as ice. I'm taking you inside."
I didn't say a word as he gently helped me up. My eyes remained on the ground as he led me inside the house, but not before quickly looking around. I felt a twinge of emotion ignite within me, though I sought to push it down.
The second I entered the house; I was instantly greeted with warmth. It was only then that I realized how cold I had been.
I could practically feel myself defrost as I shivered violently, which made Sebastian cast down a look of concern.
"I can handle a cold," I stuttered out through my chattering teeth. My voice broke through the silence that had settled in, causing Sebastian to meet my hard glare. He seemed taken aback by my change in mood, but he seemed to shake it off as he continued to watch it.
"I know that," he spoke softly and cautiously.
I felt my expression harden as he continued to gaze down upon me. It frustrated me to a point of no return- the way he looked at me.
It was as if I were some kind of child who needed to be cared after; a weak, little girl that I had vowed for myself to never ever return to.
Truth be told, deep down I was aware that my rage shouldn't directed at Sebastian. It was a problem, one of my many, to attack others in times of despair.
"Don't talk to me like that." I said firmly, narrowing my eyes at Sebastian. My tongue flicked across my dry, chapped lips as Sebastian stiffened and glared down at me. Small flurries of butterflies were released within my stomach, bringing me a rush of adrenaline.
With the newfound bravery that could easily be seen as stupidity, I clenched my fists and took a step closer to him, so that our chests skimmed together with each breath. The silence in the house was practically deafening, and I wished nothing more that to have Mason and Callum come in here and break the tension.
I shook that thought away as I remembered that they were gone for the time being, and would return later tonight.
Ever since my discovery that the Kings was growing weaker, Sebastian has been sending out large groups of men to wreak havoc across London.
An act of desperation at its finest.
"What is wrong with you?" Sebastian snapped. His dark eyes were beginning to spark with anger, and if I hadn't been looking for trouble I would have backed down instantly.
But unfortunately I was, and it seemed as though trouble was exactly what was coming my way.
"You keep treating me like a delicate little child!" I cried out. I felt my cheeks flush with anger and frustration, and I surely did not help my case as I stomped my foot on the ground with irritation.
Sebastian cocked a brow at my actions, and though the corners of his lips quirked with amusement, his anger easily overpowered him.
"Maybe if you didn't always act like a little child, we wouldn't have this problem, now would we?" I could see that his patience was long since gone, and pure annoyance was written across his features.
I rolled my eyes and ran my hand through my hair as he continued to rant to me, unleashing his pent up vexation.
"For days I have comforted you, wiped away your tears, and listen to your endless stories, and what do I get in return?" The vein in his necked popped out dangerously as he spoke angrily, "A moody, bi-polar bitch."
My face remained void of emotion as I absorbed his words like a sponge. He was exactly right though, just like he had been the day at the club.
"It's always back and forth, and back and forth," Sebastian exclaimed, gripping my upper arms with a tight grip. A whimper escaped my lips as he shook me, his eyes taking on an animalistic flare.
"I'm getting sick of it." His words were so venomous that I could feel the sting deep within me. "I have been trying much too hard lately to be nice to you and I can't do this anymore if this is how you're going to react."
He released my arms, lightly pushing me back a few steps. Though my expression remained emotionless, I was struggling to remain calm and cold. My mask was slipping and I felt a heart-wrenching amount of guilt pool in my stomach,
Guilt is consuming and the most destructive emotion that a person can feel.
I knew I was going to have to say something, before the guilt built up and crushed me. My eyes trailed over Sebastian, taking in his exhausted form that practically oozed the anxiety and stress that he was drowning in.
I parted my lips, nervously licking them over quickly before I spoke. "I know," I said softly, "I know you've been trying and I know I'm being difficult, but-"
Much to my embarrassment, my voice cracked under the amount of distraught that was overwhelming me. My cheeks instantly heated and I felt tears prick painfully at the corners of my eyes.
I tried to take calming breath, but found myself pressing my trembling lips together and praying that my chin would stop quivering. As if my humiliation wasn't enough, whimpers began to break free, and I felt myself slowly losing all self-control.
"Evie?" I could hear him approach me, getting closer and closer until I could practically feel him. My entire body shook and my vision had blurred completely as the tears had filled my eyes to the brim. One sudden movement, even the flicker of an eyelid, would start the flood that I was sure would take hours to end.
I could hear him start to whisper comforting words, but as I began to lose control over myself, it seemed as though my senses began to shut off one by one.
The second I felt his hands touch arms, a cry ripped through me, collapsing forwards onto him. His arms immediately encircled around my waist, bringing my body flush against his. With all my strength, I fought to regain some sense of control. I ached to let my cries ring out, to let all the pent up agony flow from me in the only way possible.
"Why can't you just be happy?" Sebastian asked quietly, his lips pressed to the top of my head. His warmth engulfed me, causing me to press my body into his as much as I could.
With my final string of strength, I managed to pull out a weak smile, one in which the corners of my mouth dipped down in sorrow and my brows furrowed together in pain.
"There's not a lot to be happy about."
And with that, I allowed myself to break, because in reality I don't think I would have been able to hold it together anymore even if I tried.
My body racked with sobs as he lifted me up bridal style, carrying me into his own room and underneath the covers to his bed. My hands tangled into his shirt and I held on with a tenacious grip until he had no other choice but to join me on his bed.
My face was tucked into his neck and his large body was tangled his mine as he rubbed comforting circles into my back and whispered sweet nothings into my ear.
I forgot who I was at that moment.
I forgot all about the heartless girl who the world had come to know as Evelyn Claire Summers.
I forgot about why I maintained my reputation even when I wanted nothing more than to lose it.
But it occurred to me why I wasn't bothering to keep my act up around Sebastian King.
I had thought it would feel good to have a breakdown, to let out all my pain and then start anew afterwards. I thought I wanted to cry without restraint, to let myself go and then it would all be okay in the end. Isn't that how it normally goes?
It should have felt nice to finally let go, at least that's what I had thought.
But I had been wrong, so very wrong.
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I woke with a start, groaning as the headache crashed into me instantaneously. The clock on the table read half past three, yet it felt as though it was the middle of the night. The bright light shining through the windows told me otherwise, and as my eyes began to adjust, I was able to fully take in my surroundings.
I was trapped underneath layers of sheets and blankets, surrounded by warmth, but I did not recognize the room.
You know how sometimes you just forget about something? That state of confusion and forgetfulness typically comes in between the time your eyes open in the morning, to when you finally are fully awake and aware of everything that is happening.
And then just like that, I was awake.
My eyes grew wide as I stared down at the bed, which was empty except for me. I tried to ignore the sharp hurt that penetrated me when I realized that Sebastian wasn't there, but it seemed utterly hopeless.
My hands delicately cupped my face, which was slightly swollen from all the crying that had previously taken place. It had gotten so bad, that at one point Sebastian had to lift me out of the bed and take me into the bathroom and dab my heated face with a cool cloth.
Though the entire incident was painful and in fact quite humiliating, I actually felt much better. Despite the pounding ache within my head, and my swollen face and eyes, I felt as though I could breathe normally and just relax.
It may sound ridiculous and completely stupid, but at this moment I felt as though I couldn't cry anymore even if I tried.
And believe me, I was getting really fed up with crying.
"Well look who's awake."
His voice carried through the room like a melody, while my eyes jerked up to the open doorway where he now stood. I locked eyes with him promptly, and felt warmth spread throughout my stomach.
I felt different.
"Hi," was all I could manage, though it came out as a small croak much to my embarrassment.
He grinned at me for a moment before walking fully into the room. "Sorry about leaving you for a bit, I had an important phone call to make."
I watched him carefully as he spoke, my eyes drawn to his lips and their perfect movements. Now that I think about it, everything Sebastian did was perfection. He was just perfect.
"Are you okay?" He asked, breaking me away from my overly unusual thoughts. I blushed awkwardly before nodding my head, only then catching on to the second meaning behind his question.
"Oh that," I said softly, "I'm sorry about crying like that. I, uh, I didn't mean to-" I trailed off, staring at my hands in a conflicted manner.
There was one thing going through my mind right now, and it was humiliation.
Had I actually cried like a baby in front of Sebastian, the ruthless gang leader who would probably use this to blackmail me until the day I died? Did I really let my mask fall and unveil myself as the weak six-year-old girl who had been trapped for much too long?
My eyes widened in realization; I had. I had shown Sebastian my most vulnerable side, and on top of that, I practically foisted it upon him.
What the hell is wrong with you, I inwardly scolded myself.
Suddenly the small smile that graced my lips was wiped away, and I no longer found myself gazing up at him, or looking anywhere near him for that matter.
I felt the nerves spark to life in the pit of my stomach, causing my palms to grow clammy and my cheeks to become uncomfortably heated.
"I'm so sorry!" I blurted out, my eyes wide and animalistic. I began thrashing about in the bed, hoping to pull the covers off and quickly exit the room. Unfortunately for me, my motor skills were not exactly at an all time high, and I found myself struggling pitifully in a fight against the sheets and blankets that covered me.
Pathetic.
"I hadn't meant to cry like that," I rushed out as I pulled and tugged at the surrounding sheets. "I know what you must think of me now and-"
My miniature rant was cut off as two large hands lifted me from the bed, placing my small feet onto the wooden ground. His hand slid down until then were firmly holding my by my waist, and I felt myself grow more awkward and sheepish as he stared down at me.
"And what do I think of you?" He asked quietly, one of his large hands rising to my face to lift my chin upwards so that my eyes would meet his.
It was a powerful clash between the light and the dark. His nearly black eyes held so much power and authority, while my wide blue ones undoubtedly rimmed red were filled with terror, fear, and admiration.
"You think I'm weak," I muttered, disgusted with myself. "That I'm nothing but a child."
Sebastian opened his mouth almost immediately, but I cut him off just in time. "And you're right. I am just a weak child, and well there's nothing I can do about that, well except cry, but I've already done now haven't I?"
I let out a squeak as our positions were changed, and I was backed into the wall by the doorway, Sebastian's body effectively holding me in place. One hand remained on my waist, while the other grasped my face gently but firmly.
"Do you want to be a weak child, Evelyn?" He asked, his tone hard.
I stared at him blankly as I thought about his question, though I knew exactly what my answer was.
"Of course not," I said, my voice growing louder for emphasis.
Sebastian smirked at my response before taking on a serious expression once again. "So why do you keep telling me you are? Why are you so adamant to be seen that way?"
For this I did not have an answer. I could only stare up at him and watch as his eyes searched mine.
"You doubt yourself so much, it pains me," he said, laughing a bit. His eyes twinkled with humor and sadness, the two emotions greatly contrasting. "You're only as weak as you make yourself out to be."
My lips parted as I let out a small breath of surprise. "Since when did you become fucking Buddha?" (A/N: In no means was that meant to be insulting, just saying.)
Sebastian cracked a grin at that one, and once again my eyes made their way to his lips, devouring them practically.
Something burst inside of me, and I was suddenly overcome by a tidal wave of compassion.
My eyes met his again, wide with surprise and shock as I stared directly up at him.
It was as if the heavens had opened up and shined a light down upon him, reassuring me that my affection was not unusual or unnecessary to say the least.
"Did you drug me?" I found myself saying my thoughts aloud, as I looked at him in wonder.
Sebastian's grin faltered and a look of honest confusion crossed his features. "Of course not," he defended himself, "why in the world would I do that?"
There was so much adrenaline within me, that I lost control of myself for the second time that day. I could feel my eyes darken as my confidence returned along with my unbearable attitude and impossible ways.
"Because," I murmured, my fingertips lightly running up his neck, where my hands latched together behind it. "I'm insanely attracted to you right now."
Sebastian's surprise lasted barely a fraction of a second before his signature smirk danced across his lips. "Good one, Evie."
I opened my mouth instantly; ready to tell him that this was far from a joke right now, but he beat me to it.
"Don't pretend as if you haven't always been extremely attracted to me." He pressed his hips against mine, and grinded down shamelessly. "You've wanted this from the second you met me."
I rolled my eyes at his poor choice of memories to bring back, for when I first met him I can assure you I wanted nothing to do with him.
How things have changed...
I bit my lip to hold back a moan as he continued to roll his hips down onto mine, hard. "Just shut up and kiss me," I said a bit breathlessly as his eyes darkened with lust.
He dipped his head down at my command, but stopped just before his lips were able to come into contact with mine.
"Kiss me," he ordered, almost growling at me.
I didn't hesitate at all before tugging his head down to mine and pressing my lips rather forcefully onto his. He responded with the same amount of heat and power, if not more.
It was hard to believe that only hours before, I was drowning in a pit of despair, and now I was ready to throw my body into a pool of pleasure.
There was fire and lust that molded us perfectly together. It was intoxicating, controlling, and demanding.
I have never felt this way with anyone before, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to. Without warning, Sebastian pulled away, leaving us to both breathe heavily, resting our foreheads against the other.
"Jump."
At his command, I jumped instantly, wrapped my legs around his toned torso. His hands rand over my body, and then we were at it again. He nipped at my bottom lip, asking for entrance. Feeling like a tease, I smirked into the kiss and refused to grant him entrance, which clearly wasn't appreciated.
As usual, he got his way just after his hand slipped into my shirt and grabbed my breasts rather harshly.
I whimpered into the kiss, and that's when his tongue dove into my mouth, which set of fireworks and butterflies inside of my stomach.
I couldn't get enough of him, and it was beginning to irritate me. I pushed against his shoulders, separating us once more.
"Bed," I breathed out heavily, his eyes flitting over his face at high speeds. Sebastian didn't need to be told twice before he turned us again and dropped me onto the bed.
As rough and not gentlemanlike as that sounds, it proved to be one big turn on for me as he climbed over me, his muscled arms on either side of my head.
"Off," he ordered, tugging at my shirt. I didn't even have time to try to take of my shirt before Sebastian tore in directly down the middle. With my lacy black bra on display, there was nothing stopping Sebastian from peppering kisses down the valley of my breasts and back up to my face.
"Your turn," I told him, pulling at his shirt.
He cracked a boyish grin as he pulled his shirt off, causing an eruption of heat to ignite within my lower belly. But he didn't stop there, no he continued to strip until his was as bare as the day he was born.
With no warning, I founded my eyes staring straight at his thick length, and gulping down the desire and heat that burned within me.
I wanted him, and I wanted him right now.
Sebastian smirked at my reaction, and leaned forwards to slide my shorts off, along with my underwear.
It looks like I'm not the only one who was eager to do this.
With one hand, he had my bottom half completely bare, and with the other, he had my bra off faster than I could register what was happening.
That takes skill.
He brought his face to mine once more, and I found myself having to ignore his member rubbing against my inner thigh as Sebastian kissed me passionately and furiously.
"Wait, wait, wait," I whispered, placing my hands against his broad chest. It surprised me how quickly he pulled away, a look of worry and concern quickly taking over his features, though the lust and desire remained evident in his eyes.
"What is it? Did I hurt you?" Sebastian asked, his eyes trailing over my body for any bruises or injury of some sort.
I bit back a smile before shaking my head gently. There I was completely naked, underneath a very naked Sebastian King, and not once did I feel insecure or uncomfortable.
"You're so beautiful," Sebastian said as his eyes met mine again.
I felt myself blushing at the compliment, before glancing around nervously.
"Sebastian, there's something I need to tell you," I said quietly, forcing him to linger on my every word."
"What is it babe," he urged, practically pleading me to tell him.
"Well you see, I've never done this before and I heard that your first time hurts and..." I broke out of character when I saw his bewildered expression, leading him to join in on my laughter.
"Hilarious," he said sarcastically, though his amusement shone through his eyes. I gigged a bit to myself before I noticed the serious expression that he had taken on.
"Now I know you're not a virgin and I know you've been with other guys, but I want you to know one thing," he looked me directly in the eyes, his dark ones piercing mine.
"I may not be your first but I intend to be your last."
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