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I am so desperate to be seen. Not by the world, just by someone, someone that gives a fuck, aboutme.And these boys,men, they do.
It is sickening.
Me.
I'm disgusting.
The way I crave them now, after one stupid night that never should have happened. A few days where I’ve revelled in their attention.
I must reek of desperation and I wish I could stop this now. I should have stopped this before anything happened at all. I never should have gone to their party. Admittedly, I didn't know Lynx would be there, I didn't know he had connections to the men who lived in that house.
But I should have stopped it all the same.
I've spent so many years alone, isolating myself, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin, around other people, worrying everyone I meet would think I was weird or strange.
My shoulders curl forwards, gaze dropping, studying the marked, worn wood of the table. I've spent the last four days in some state of weird fantastical bliss. It's not normal, it can't last. Itwon'tlast. And I'm forming attachments to men who, once my shiny new toy label wears off, won't want anything to do with me. We'll pass each other on campus like strangers, and my heart will bleed and they will move on to the next girl with easily spreading legs. They probably laugh about me when I'm not around because I'm so fucking pathetic.
I shouldn't care. I shouldn't be feeling any sort of attachment to these men. I'm just a warm place for them to shove their cocks into.
I'mfun.
My thighs clamp together, muscles tensing.
Shame.
It threads through me like a fizzing hot wire of electricity, but it's not going to start my heart, it's going to fucking flay it.
Lynx's hand is on my shoulder, his fingers smoothing back and forth over the exposed skin of my collarbone beneath Rex's loaned coat, and it feels like razor blades cutting my flesh.
I'm flying to my feet, knee smacking into the table, the coat falling from my shoulders to the seat before I even have time to think.
“Poppy?” Lynx's rumble that normally strokes its way across my flesh feels like gouging shards of ice in my veins.
“I have to pee,” I announce, shuffling my way around to the other side of the booth, pressing my fingers to the sticky surface of the table as I make my way around.
“Okay, I'll come with you, it's really-”
“No!” I shout, the force of my word stopping him half risen from his seat. “No, no, it's fine, I'm fine, I'll be right back.”
He stares at me with a long blink, and I know he's going to say more, even as I'm shimmying out the other side of the corner booth, but King arrives, stopping at the edge of the table, drinks in hand. He frowns, flicking his gaze between Lynx and I, the former still staring at me, gaze hard, and I, I just bolt.
Shouldering my way through the mass of people, I almost crash into Rex.
“Woahhh, easy, babe. Where you off to in such a hurry, Kitten?”
“Have to pee,” I call over my shoulder, eyes bulging, breaths too sharp, it feels like the air is attacking my lungs.
I don't know where I'm going, I don't know where the restrooms are in this bar and I feel like I can't fucking breathe. So when I hurry towards the first hallway I see, elbowing my waybetween bodies, I break through the sweaty mass, heaving for breath in the slightly clearer hall.
The lights are low, everything wooden and dark and dingy, no one is looking at me, no one is staring, but it feels like there are a thousand eyes glued to me. I straighten my spine, taking my time to walk down the hall, trying not to fall apart.
I should have stayed in the booth, knocked back a few drinks and let the liquid courage drown out my anxieties, if only for just one more night with them. And yet, I'm here, meandering down a crowded hall and finally pushing into a restroom.
Tiles cover the floor and walls in a dirty shade of ageing yellow-grey, but there's no one by the sink and the two stalls' doors are swung open revealing they're empty.
Yet, despite the space being deserted, it still feels like I'm suffocating. My heart racing, lungs screaming, my head pounds like something is knocking on the inside of my skull.
Bracing my hands on either side of the sink, I bow my head, squeeze my eyes shut, listen to the drippy tap plink drops of water into the sink.
