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I take a sip of my drink and enjoy the taste of the liquor on my tongue and the sweet burn as it goes down my throat. Six was right, there’s no signs of Rogue at this party. And a part of me is disappointed.
Bored, even.
Especially without my friends to keep me company.
I head towards the downstairs bathroom to refresh my makeup and take a moment to myself. Maybe now’s the time to call it a night.
Someone shrieks as I open the unlocked door and I realize I just interrupted a hookup.
“Close the door.” The man orders without turning.
I do as I’m told, flushing to the roots of my hair in the process. I look around and spot the staircase. I wonder if I’ll have an easier time finding an open bathroom upstairs.
I don’t question my decision and quickly climb the stairs. On the landing, I can go left or right. There’s a number of doors and winding hallways on either side.
I go right and walk past a couple of doors before picking the third one. It looks like it could be a bathroom.
Putting my hand on the handle, I press down and push the door open. It takes my eyes a couple seconds to adjust to the darkness, but the moonlight helps illuminate the scene before me.
Lyra is sitting on Rogue lap, her left arm wrapped around his neck, her right hand trailing down his chest.
His shirtless chest.
A pair of inky green eyes snap to mine and darken in recognition before he barks out an order.
“Get out.”
???
10.
Bellamy
For some reason, I don’t immediately react.
My eyes are glued to the scene in front of me. The way she’s sitting across his lap, the way her hand touches him, the way his arms are on either of the chair’s arm rests and not on her.
“Get the fuck out, Bellamy.”
It’s the first time he’s said my name. That’s what my foolish brain decides to focus on in that moment.
He knows my name. He says it low and deep in his throat, a heated threat and a promise of retaliation if I don’t leave right now.
And that’s enough to make me move, finally.
I shut the door as quickly as possible and look for an escape. Once back in the hallway I turn to my left and right, feeling an unexplainably frantic need to hide.
I randomly choose another door, pushing my way through it and turning around to close it immediately and sagging against it. It’s not a bathroom, it’s another empty bedroom. This house is a crazy maze. They must get lost once a week in this place.
I try not to think about what I just witnessed.
It seems like she has every right to be possessive of him. They’re still hooking up. I attribute the uneasy feeling in my stomach to almost interrupting another couple fucking, and not to anything else. I don’t have time to investigate the many emotions swirling through me at the visual of the two of them together. It’s because I dislike them both as individuals, that’s why I hate seeing them together.
The door pushes open with a brutal shove, sending me falling to my knees in the process. I use my palms to catch myself as I land hard. A sharp pang shoots up both my arms. Still on all fours, I turn my head and see Rogue towering over me.
He’s almost incandescent with rage this time. The fading cuts and bruises on his face make him look ferocious, the moonlit room highlighting them against his tanned skin.
I stumble to my feet as I apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
