I’m surrounded by laughter. My friends, telling each other stories and cracking up over them, being happy and relieved school is over for the day.
I try to smile along, to keep the façade up at least a little after my little meltdown I had this morning. Like, really Flo? Crying at school? I really thought I was stronger than that.
With each nod, each ‘yeah, totally,’ and each fake laugh I feel more like a fraud. I’m lying again. Always lying and the fear of Elija, or anyone really, discovering that sets me on edge even further. It’s the thing I know he hates most but can’t seem to stop doing. I’m caught in a loop and with each passing day of keeping secrets and making excuses, I reel myself in further.
At least I’m not going home right now. I don’t think I could handle it. Not after so many nights without sleep. The constant fear of my father sneaking into my room again, drunk out of his mind and with my pain as his goal. He hasn’t hurt me again since the night Elija had dinner with us. Not physically, at least. Mentally, he’s destroying me and emotionally he’s wearing me out. The uncertainty is the worst part. I don’t know when or if he’s going to come after me again and constantly worrying and being on edge is so tiring.
I’m so tired.
The people around me are getting suspicious, which I hate. I feel like I’m failing at something. Failing someone. Not sure who or why but it feels wrong to bother anyone else with this. I hate bringing people down.
I zone back to the conversation when I see a hand flying my way. I flinch on instinct, my whole body stiffening and my eyes squeezing shut. My heart’s racing, adrenalin’s making me dizzy but the pain never comes. I open my eyes again and the whole scene ahead of me comes back to focus.
Elija is telling a story, moving his hands wildly as he does. My heart sinks. I just flinched for no reason. God, I’m so glad he didn’t notice because he sure as hell would’ve been hurt and probably would have demanded answers. He deserves answers. I’m simply too weak to provide them.
I’m just about to think that no one noticed my little accident when my eyes meet a light pair of blue ones. Orion is staring at me and I can tell from his expression that he knows. It makes my cheeks burn up with shame and I’m forced to avert my eyes.
Being hyper-aware of my friend’s behavior, I notice him walking over to me. He touches my arm impossibly softly, making me stop as the others walk ahead. Only when they’re a few feet away does Orion speak up.
‘Your parents?’ he asks, starting to walk again. I look at my feet as I follow him.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Your parents, Florence. It was with me so I just assumed. I know it’s not Eli,’ he says. His demeanor is cool but his voice sounds stained. That’s when my brain catches up with what he said. If we’re talking about what I think we are, Orion just told me his parent’s hit him. My blood runs a little colder at the thought alone and somehow, an irrational burst of anger rushes through me.
How do parents think they have the right to mistreat their kids like that? Fuck, let this be a case of miscommunication because right now, I’m seeing little Orion getting beat up by his parents in my head and I hate it. He doesn’t deserve that.
‘Is what my parents?’ I chuckle weakly, playing dumb because I’m panicking. I can’t tell anyone. Maybe we’re not talking about the same thing.
‘The pieces of shit abusing you,’ he says, now really sounding angry. It’s fine though because I know it’s not directed at me. It’s in my defense. ‘I can see the signs, Flo. I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not, please speak up. You don’t have to endure it, we can figure something out,’ he tells me, finally looking at me. And it’s so tempting. So dangerously tempting that I can feel the words at the tip of my tongue.
I swallow them.
I keep staring at my feet.
Then I do what I’ve been doing best. I lie.
‘Oh, god no. I don’t know what gave you that impression and I’m really sorry but there’s nothing to worry about. Thank you though, for looking out for me,’ I tell him. He nods while my heart feels like a million pounds.
We catch up with the others, say our goodbyes, and our ways part. Eli and I go to his place on my scooter and I’m able to relax just a little bit.
Then we’re hanging out in his living room, watching the next Harry Potter movie and I feel even better yet. Good enough for the sudden urge to do something completely different than watching tv.
Elija’s hand is holding me close from behind, one arm supporting his head while the other is around my waist, making sure I don’t fall off the couch. Our bodies are fitting together from my back all the way down to my feet and unable to help myself, I scoot even closer.
Well, maybe not scoot closer as much as grinding my ass against his dick. His dick, which I now notice is already hard. Good to know I’m not the only one whose mind isn’t with Harry’s first challenge in the Triwizard’s tournament.
‘What are you doing?’ my boy whispers against my ear. I nearly shudder and take it as an excuse to grind up on him again.
‘We’re finally alone and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there’s something I want to do more than watch Harry Potter,’ I confess, trying not to let it show how desperate I am. Truth is, I really want this. Really want him and all the feeling that involves. I just want to stop thinking and worrying and being scared. Just want to forget if only for a while.
Maybe my motives are wrong. Maybe it’s not fair to Elija to use him that way but when he tightens his grip on me and pushes his hips further against me, I can’t feel guilty. All I feel is the heat of his body and my body and the undeniable urge to touch him. All of him with all of me.
‘Bedroom?’ I ask, my voice hoarse as all the things he promised me come back to mind.
Elija only grunts in reply and the next thing I know we’re both standing. Then I’m not standing at all but flying. Flying until my stomach presses down on Elija’s shoulder and he’s walking towards his room with me.
I squeal and hit his back softly but don’t move otherwise. I’m not going to make carrying me any harder. I like my limbs intact and all.
In his room, Elija shuts the door and throws me onto his bed. The laughter dies on my lips when I see his expression. So scorching hot, so desperate and hungry I have to bite back a groan. Flipping hell but when he looks at me like that, I can’t help but feel like the most beautiful creature.
The longer he stares at me, the more confident I get. That and needy but who cares about that, right?
Feeling bold, I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, glad I’m wearing my pretty teal lace underwear set. There are small flowers along the edge of it, making it one of my favorites.
Elija takes me in for a good few beats before cursing under his breath. He finishes the distance between him and the bed, pulling his own shirt over his head in the process, and climbs on top of me.
‘And I was wondering where they were,’ he bumbles against my cheek before kissing it. It takes all my concentration to register his words, not to mention speak.
‘What?’ I ask slowly.
‘The flowers,’ he tells me as his finger moves along the lace around my ribs. ‘There’s always some flower on you. Always but there wasn’t today. Now I know you just hid it. Hid it only for me to see now.’ He groans, sounding almost pained as he pushes his body further against mine, pinning me to the mattress. ‘It’s so ridiculously hot,’ he adds as an afterthought.
