You Can't Hide From Me.
Flash Bomb.
LILY ANN
"You got to be fucking KIDDING ME!" I exclaimed, throwing the blankets off of me in a huff and getting out of the bed, not caring if I woke Zacky up or not. This was beyond ridiculous. Two nights spent with the most gorgeous man I've even seen; two nights lost to oblivion.
Don't get me wrong, I've blacked out before while drinking...more than once, to be perfectly honest. I may not have a hangover when I wake up, but when I drink, I normally drink enough to get a small country pregnant. But this?! I had six shots...SIX. I groaned suddenly, lurching forward and slamming my hand to my forehead to try and prevent the sudden headache from growing. My eyes swam and I felt my knees buckle, sending me sprawling to the floor.
I barely noticed the bruises shaped like finger prints that decorated my thighs and my ankles, definitely not noticing the ones of my back as well as the bloody scratches on my back. I didn't feel sore on my body, so the damage obviously wasn't extensive. It actually looked like the aftermath of an extremely wild night of fucking.
I grumbled to myself, not understanding the sudden debut appearance of a wicked hangover. I figured I was so weak on my feet because I was probably still drunk. It seemed like it was still pretty early in the morning, so I was probably just feeling the party still.
I heard the bed squeak softly, and then Zacky was suddenly at my side. "Fuck, Lily, what happened?! Are you alright?" I looked up, squinting at his perfect features through my heavy-lidded eyes. Damn, he looks good in the morning.
"I don't feel good," I groaned, rolling over onto my back and pinching the bridge of my nose, and then closed my eyes. Yes, this was much better.
I felt him slip his arms under me and then I was moving up and through the air. "Do you need to use the bathroom or anything before I put you back in the bed?" I nodded and he moved me to the door and down the hallway quickly and quietly so that no one came to investigate and saw us naked.
A few moments later, I was laying back in the bed with a cool wet wash cloth on my forehead and a small glass of water. Zacky had already given me two ibuprofen and was cuddling next to me, his hand lazily playing with my hair and his green eyes watching me with a look that seemed almost adoring. He's such a sweetheart...
I smiled, drifting gently off to sleep.
ZACKY
She was absolutely perfect. The way her blonde curls framed her face. The way her big blue eyes could flash with fire one minute and then plead and beg the next. The way her soft pink lips said my name and the way they felt wrapped around my dick. The way her small, delicate hands fumbled gently and tried so hard to push me away. It was adorable.
She was perfect. She was mine.
LILY ANN
I had finally gotten over my ridiculous hang over and collected Reggie to go home, and we sat on our big leather couch watching Pulp Fiction for the millionth time.
"ENGLISH MOTHA FUCKA! DO YOU SPEAK IT?!" We shouted during our favorite part of the movie, giggling like little kids and eating our nachos. Who were we kidding. We were kids.
Reggie's dad teased us a lot and said that we suffered from "Peter Pan Syndrome", which basically meant we'd never grow up. How right he was. Although we responsibly worked, paid our bills on time, and both had credit scores in the high 700s, we were more likely to spend a day playing at Toys 'R' Us than going clubbing. We were just large kids with the physical and legal ability to consume enough alcohol to kill an elephant.
"So what happened last night? I saw how hot and heavy things were getting between you and Mr. Vengeance before you disappeared." Reggie had turned the volume down so that she could interrogate me.
I groaned, covering my face dramatically with my hands. "Mmphmmmhhmph..." I mumbled from behind my hands.
"What the fuck is mmphmmmhhmph? Some new Karma Sutra move?" She asked sarcastically, pausing the movie and turning her full attention to my form. If only she could see the fact that I was dying inside with every mention of my frustrating night.
"I don't know," I moaned, dropping my hands. She gaped at me, her eyebrow arched so high that I thought it might disappear into her hair.
"The fuck you mean 'you don't know'?!" She asked, using air quotes in the appropriate places.
"Exactly what I fucking said. I. Don't. Know. After the shots with Matt, I fucking blacked out." I muttered, playing with a loose thread on my flannel.
She frowned, losing herself to her thoughts for a moment. "That's not right..." I looked up at her and saw her tapping furiously on the screen of her phone. "What do you mean?" I asked, crossing my legs Indian style in front of me on the couch and leaned back against one of the big accent cushions.
"I mean that you shouldn't have blacked out. You only had six shots. When in the fuck had you ever lost track of shit after six mother fucking shots?" She asked, still flipping through shit on her phone and mumbling to herself.
She had a point. It was the same point that I had made to myself when I was reasoning in my head this morning. She finally stopped typing and looked at me. "How did you feel before you blacked out?"
I shrugged. "I felt really weak in the knees, like my legs were made of jello. My eyes swam a little bit and I felt really loose all over." I struggled to remember anything after going towards the bedroom, but it was all hazy and dark.
She chewed on her bottom lip, reading her screen. "How did you feel this morning?"
I groaned, not wanting to remember this morning at all. "Ugh, it was fucking awful. I had the worst first hangover in the history of shit. I couldn't walk, none of my motor skills works, and I had a horrendous headache. Every time I moved my eyes, my head hurt. So Zacky picked me up off the floor where I fell down and took care of me. After I finished sleeping it off, I felt fine."
Suddenly, I felt my phone ringing and went to answer it, seeing Zacky's picture show up. He had taken it this morning in bed when he was playing with my phone, and I loved it. Before I could answer it, Reggie snatched it out of my hand and sat it on the table behind her.
"Dude, what the fuck?" I asked.
"Don't answer it," she mumbled, spreading her fingers out on her screen to zoom out. "Read this." She flipped her phone around and handed it to me. It was on some type of medical website. It was the title that stopped me in my tracks.
ROHYPNOL
...Since the 1990s Rohypnol has been used illegally to lessen the depression caused by the abuse of stimulants, such as cocaine and mehamphetamine, and also as an aid for sexual assault. The so-called "date rape drug" was placed unknowingly in the drinks of victims, often at a bar or party ("club drug"). Due to the strong amnesia produced by the drug, victims would have limited or no recollection of the assault...
What. The Fuck?!
"You got to be fucking KIDDING ME!" I exclaimed, throwing the blankets off of me in a huff and getting out of the bed, not caring if I woke Zacky up or not. This was beyond ridiculous. Two nights spent with the most gorgeous man I've even seen; two nights lost to oblivion.
Don't get me wrong, I've blacked out before while drinking...more than once, to be perfectly honest. I may not have a hangover when I wake up, but when I drink, I normally drink enough to get a small country pregnant. But this?! I had six shots...SIX. I groaned suddenly, lurching forward and slamming my hand to my forehead to try and prevent the sudden headache from growing. My eyes swam and I felt my knees buckle, sending me sprawling to the floor.
I barely noticed the bruises shaped like finger prints that decorated my thighs and my ankles, definitely not noticing the ones of my back as well as the bloody scratches on my back. I didn't feel sore on my body, so the damage obviously wasn't extensive. It actually looked like the aftermath of an extremely wild night of fucking.
I grumbled to myself, not understanding the sudden debut appearance of a wicked hangover. I figured I was so weak on my feet because I was probably still drunk. It seemed like it was still pretty early in the morning, so I was probably just feeling the party still.
I heard the bed squeak softly, and then Zacky was suddenly at my side. "Fuck, Lily, what happened?! Are you alright?" I looked up, squinting at his perfect features through my heavy-lidded eyes. Damn, he looks good in the morning.
"I don't feel good," I groaned, rolling over onto my back and pinching the bridge of my nose, and then closed my eyes. Yes, this was much better.
I felt him slip his arms under me and then I was moving up and through the air. "Do you need to use the bathroom or anything before I put you back in the bed?" I nodded and he moved me to the door and down the hallway quickly and quietly so that no one came to investigate and saw us naked.
A few moments later, I was laying back in the bed with a cool wet wash cloth on my forehead and a small glass of water. Zacky had already given me two ibuprofen and was cuddling next to me, his hand lazily playing with my hair and his green eyes watching me with a look that seemed almost adoring. He's such a sweetheart...
I smiled, drifting gently off to sleep.
ZACKY
She was absolutely perfect. The way her blonde curls framed her face. The way her big blue eyes could flash with fire one minute and then plead and beg the next. The way her soft pink lips said my name and the way they felt wrapped around my dick. The way her small, delicate hands fumbled gently and tried so hard to push me away. It was adorable.
She was perfect. She was mine.
LILY ANN
I had finally gotten over my ridiculous hang over and collected Reggie to go home, and we sat on our big leather couch watching Pulp Fiction for the millionth time.
"ENGLISH MOTHA FUCKA! DO YOU SPEAK IT?!" We shouted during our favorite part of the movie, giggling like little kids and eating our nachos. Who were we kidding. We were kids.
Reggie's dad teased us a lot and said that we suffered from "Peter Pan Syndrome", which basically meant we'd never grow up. How right he was. Although we responsibly worked, paid our bills on time, and both had credit scores in the high 700s, we were more likely to spend a day playing at Toys 'R' Us than going clubbing. We were just large kids with the physical and legal ability to consume enough alcohol to kill an elephant.
"So what happened last night? I saw how hot and heavy things were getting between you and Mr. Vengeance before you disappeared." Reggie had turned the volume down so that she could interrogate me.
I groaned, covering my face dramatically with my hands. "Mmphmmmhhmph..." I mumbled from behind my hands.
"What the fuck is mmphmmmhhmph? Some new Karma Sutra move?" She asked sarcastically, pausing the movie and turning her full attention to my form. If only she could see the fact that I was dying inside with every mention of my frustrating night.
"I don't know," I moaned, dropping my hands. She gaped at me, her eyebrow arched so high that I thought it might disappear into her hair.
"The fuck you mean 'you don't know'?!" She asked, using air quotes in the appropriate places.
"Exactly what I fucking said. I. Don't. Know. After the shots with Matt, I fucking blacked out." I muttered, playing with a loose thread on my flannel.
She frowned, losing herself to her thoughts for a moment. "That's not right..." I looked up at her and saw her tapping furiously on the screen of her phone. "What do you mean?" I asked, crossing my legs Indian style in front of me on the couch and leaned back against one of the big accent cushions.
"I mean that you shouldn't have blacked out. You only had six shots. When in the fuck had you ever lost track of shit after six mother fucking shots?" She asked, still flipping through shit on her phone and mumbling to herself.
She had a point. It was the same point that I had made to myself when I was reasoning in my head this morning. She finally stopped typing and looked at me. "How did you feel before you blacked out?"
I shrugged. "I felt really weak in the knees, like my legs were made of jello. My eyes swam a little bit and I felt really loose all over." I struggled to remember anything after going towards the bedroom, but it was all hazy and dark.
She chewed on her bottom lip, reading her screen. "How did you feel this morning?"
I groaned, not wanting to remember this morning at all. "Ugh, it was fucking awful. I had the worst first hangover in the history of shit. I couldn't walk, none of my motor skills works, and I had a horrendous headache. Every time I moved my eyes, my head hurt. So Zacky picked me up off the floor where I fell down and took care of me. After I finished sleeping it off, I felt fine."
Suddenly, I felt my phone ringing and went to answer it, seeing Zacky's picture show up. He had taken it this morning in bed when he was playing with my phone, and I loved it. Before I could answer it, Reggie snatched it out of my hand and sat it on the table behind her.
"Dude, what the fuck?" I asked.
"Don't answer it," she mumbled, spreading her fingers out on her screen to zoom out. "Read this." She flipped her phone around and handed it to me. It was on some type of medical website. It was the title that stopped me in my tracks.
ROHYPNOL
...Since the 1990s Rohypnol has been used illegally to lessen the depression caused by the abuse of stimulants, such as cocaine and mehamphetamine, and also as an aid for sexual assault. The so-called "date rape drug" was placed unknowingly in the drinks of victims, often at a bar or party ("club drug"). Due to the strong amnesia produced by the drug, victims would have limited or no recollection of the assault...
What. The Fuck?!
Notes
I always hate putting out super short chapters, but this is a filler before shit gets real. If I would've continued, it would've been ridiculously long!
Hope you all like it. I'm having WAY too much fun writing this!
<3
Love this story can't wait to see how it ends.♡♡♡
8/19/16