"The reason I got so hurt over your..... relapse... was because of Thea. She had problems with drugs too. I saw how much it affected her. I haven't always been there for you.. and i wish i was. I don't want you to ever feel anything remotely close to how you felt before all of this... how you might still feel now?" Oliver's voice lingers for a few seconds, the words swimming out of his throat and nipping me in the ass.
I pause, trying to think if I should actually be saying this or not. "I honestly don't want you to know how I feel right now.. It might scare you. I don't want you to see me differently than you do now. I don't want you to tip toe around me if I tell you. I want you to treat me the same way you would treat anyone else."
I wait for a reply, but it doesn't come, so I continue, "I feel trapped. In my own brain. Like I know what I want to do is so so so wrong, but I have to do it. I have to. I feel lost, ashamed, scared, embarrassed–"
Oliver cuts me off, "–Don't feel embarrassed. It's a human thing to do. It's why its illegal in certain places. Its why its been boycotted and banned at times. It's why half of this is illegal– the pill part at least. But I don't care. Its not going to change the way I treat you or think of you. You will always be sweet, loving, caring, fun felicity to me. The one that's right for me. The one I love."
That catches me off guard and I spontaneously kiss him. A soft, sweet, loving kiss. He kisses me back, and then I roll on top of him.
He leans away for a second and says, "Felicity, this is supposed to be a serious conversation."
"We can have a serious conversation later," I say quickly.
He smirks sexily, leaning forward again to kiss me. As he leans forward, his abs clench and I reach down and untie the string on his joggers. I sit down on his pelvic bone and roll my crotch in circles on it, kissing him along with it. He moans softly and slightly and at the same time I feel him go hard. I roll up and down, teasing him.
His mouth morphs to a smile as he feels my hand move off his chest and drag toward his boxers. I pull them off, and at the same time he begins to undress me. He unlatches my bra, taking it off and squeezing them together, trailing his tongue to my nipple and sucking it softly. I lift my hips off of him and he pulls off my pants in a rush. I slowly put my hips back between his bare body. I lean forward again, pressing myself onto his pecks and caress the back of his neck as we kiss.
My hips open and close, my body thrusts from bottom to top, and I can feel every movement he makes. He moves his hand down and begins rubbing me. Soft and rough variations. He does it in circles, just in the perfect spot. He thrusts for me now, letting me enjoy it. I feel a strong, remarkable and distinct surge of energy from the spot he's rubbing in the shape of a wish bone down my crotch. It starts at the top, then radiates from there, looping around him and pulsing hard.
He begins to thrust harder and faster, and I pleasantly moan. I feel him throbbing, he moans as well, and i look him directly in the eyes, pleasure pouring out of mine and through his.
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
I wake up and immediately want to shower. It's not that I'm grossed out by it, I just don't feel clean. And I don't want to smell bad.
I jump up and run to the shower, too lazy to put clothes on, I run naked. I shut the door behind me, catching it at the last second and closing it quietly. I look at the clock, which reads 3:27 am. Shit. I thought it was morning. I decide to shower anyways, so that when Oliver wakes up I'm with him. I open the cupboard to grab my toothbrush which is hidden behind bottles. I wince. I thought Oliver threw these out after that incident. With a shaky hand, I grab one of the bottles. I wrap myself in a towel for warmth and sit on the closed toilet lid. A surge of energy, of want, and of urge creeps through my gut. I know this is wrong. But I have to at least look.
I open the cap, but it's empty. All that is inside is a slip of paper. You promised no more addiction. I believed in you.
Panic spreads from my hand to my arm, to my heart, and then spreads to my body. I feel like every single cell on my body erupts into a thousand microscopic pieces.
I reach into the cupboard again and open another bottle. It's empty with a note inside that reads, You are strong. Power through the rough times.
Why was the first one so negative? Why was this one so positive?
I pick up every bottle and shake it to see if they are all empty. They are. But I don't have the courage to open every single one and read a variety of negative comments.
I grab my eyebrow and pull on the skin slightly, remembering a time when I did that when I was happy. Wanting to forget about it and go to sleep, I run a bath. Cleansing yet relaxing.
I set my cold feet in the scorching hot water. The rest of my body falls with them, and I hold my breath and sink under the water. I open my eyes and stare at the blurred world. Time seems to freeze in place, and I'm all alone, drowning in a huge world with tiny hopes. The lights turn off, and I think back to my severe addiction days; back in my apartment, unable to even walk.
As bad as it seems, I didn't have to deal with my feelings back then. Now they swim around me at the speed of light, zipping in one ear and through the other, only to drill holes in the back of my brain. I want to feel how I felt before. I wasn't miserable, I felt good, I wasn't self conscious half of the time and I was comfortable. I wasn't constantly scared, I could do whatever I wanted.
I open my eyes again and surface, take a gulp of air, and sink back down into the water.
And then I realize Oliver wasn't part of my life back then. He's the only one in the dark I see. When I was losing faith in what I thought I would be he was the one to bring me back. He saw something in me that I never seen in myself. He helped me get sober. More sober than I thought I would ever be. He makes me not want it anymore. I have resisted it for so so so so long.
But seeing those pill bottles made me want to look at them and only them. They made me feel small and vulnerable again. I don't want to be one of those people who get lost in their own thoughts and addictions that they can't function as a normal human being.
But there is so much wrong with my life that I kind of have an excuse. If I go off the wagon, it's for a good cause, anyone would understand that.
The water ripples slightly and for a brief moment I can see my face looking down at me. I look different?
I drain out half of the water and refill it with hot water again, I do this more times than I can count, and I sit there, under the water, thinking. I eventually add bubbles, mostly for the aesthetic, but they also kind of remind me of hope. And I can play with them. No matter how old you are, bubbles are always going to be interesting.
I lay in the water for what feels like only seconds before I hear vibration on the floor. It surges from the bottom of the bathtub to the walls and in the water. I stay under the bubbles, under my mask, away from sight and comfortable in the bliss warmth.
I hear a small voice, like it has been pushed through 10 boxes in 10 different rooms, speaking in 10 different directions.
Suddenly the water moves and I see hands reaching in the tub.
My eyes widen and I dodge the grip of them, scared out of my wits.
I gasp when I hit the surface, searching for air, but mainly expecting to see an unfriendly face.
Oliver's eyes meet mine and a huge wave of relaxation hits my body.
But the expression on his face is the opposite of relaxation.
I wait for him to break the silence.
"What were you doing?" He says, scared.
"Bathing," I reply, my voice bland.
"No, you weren't. That was something more than bathing." Worry cripples through his face.
"Okay, fine, you got me. I was relaxing."
The conversation dies and he sits next to me on the floor.
I forget all about the pill bottles until he mentions them, "So, did you lose your hairbrush or were you just cruising for a reliever?" His voice is much more angry than I thought it would be.
Hope you guys liked this chapter.
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