Property of Kimra Lelanst, do not duplicate without consent.
Serena shifted her weight, her body sinking deeper into the thick, down mattress beneath her. With a sigh, she curled small fingers around the edges of the woolen coverlet and drew it to just below her chin. Comfortable beyond words, she let sleep capture her once more, absently noting the warmth resting against her back.
* * * * *
The beeping of her watch roused Serena from her comfortable sleep. It was a sound she was attuned too - more so, even, then her morning alarm clock. Sleepily, her hand fumbled for the nightstand, squinting her eyes as she tried to regain focus. Her hand knocked several items off the nightstand before she managed to clasp the scouts’ watch tightly. She made a mental note to later pick up the things she'd knocked down, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out what they were.
She wiggled her body into a sitting position and flipped the watch open, pressing the button that flashed at her. She was a bit surprised to find Luna's face staring at her with a large scowl.
"Where's the attack?" She asked sharply, despite the groggy feeling that weighed her body down like lead. Luna raised an eyebrow at the words - an odd feat for a cat, but Luna managed to pull it off.
"There isn't an attack." Luna snapped back, obviously overcoming any surprise Serena's question had brought forth. Serena didn't attempt to hide her yawn then, stretching her back and twisting her shoulders in a smooth motion. It did nothing to fight the exhaustion her body radiated, but did make her feel more relaxed, something she could afford if she didn't have to dash out of bed and fight battles just yet. "The question-" Serena looked to her nightstand as the cat spoke, trying to find the time only to realize she must have knocked her clock down. "-Serena, is-" Luna continued as Serena let lose another yawn. The cat’s nagging was beginning to tire her further. "-where are you?" Serena flipped the watch shut, trying to drown out the nagging voice, too tired to hear the words.
Too tired to even put the watch back, she snuggled under the blankets a second time. Glancing out her window for the comforting sight of the moon, she was disappointed that she couldn't see it. She thought it strange, but let the exhaustion rule her movements as her eyes slid closed again. Her last conscious thought was to tuck the incessantly beeping watch beneath the mattress because she was not feeling up to dealing with whatever it was Luna wanted.
* * * * *
Light flickered against her closed eyelids, drawing Serena from the pleasant dreams that had captivated her for most of the night. It was at that moment that she realized her head throbbed fiercely, her mouth tasted bitter and dry, and her stomach felt more then a little queasy. What bothered her most, however, was the flickering light. With a groan of annoyance she rolled onto her side, drawing the blanket with her to face away from the windows.
She licked her dry lips as she tried to burrow deeper into the bed, seeking to return to the comfort of sleep. She swallowed before easily falling back into sleep and unconsciousness.
It was the hand that glided smoothly around her waist that snapped Serena's eyes open and plunged her mind into overdrive. Her body tensed at the contact as her mind focused on the less frightening possiblities for the situation.
<Okay. Okay. Where are your hands Serena?> But she could see them before her, still clutching the blanket, only now her knuckles where white and the grasp was unrelenting. <Stupid, that was a stupid idea. Maybe you’re at one of the girls’.> Tentatively she surveyed her surroundings; her eyes skimmed over plain white washed walls, several plants, and a plain wooden nightstand that had been divested of all objects. She knew immediately that it wasn’t one of the girls’ houses. <Okay. Don’t panic. Just figure it out.> She told herself, large eyes flicking hopefully for the slightest sign of familiarity. But there was nothing recognizable in sight: no pictures on the nightstand, no articles of clothing crumpled on the floor, not even she realized with horror her own clothes. It was that single thought that made her realize exactly what kind of situation she was in.
She felt it then her nakedness, the mild soreness between her legs and in her belly, and the feeling of warmth from a body lying close by if not directly next to her. The strong hand continued to stroke her waist in a strangely soothing motion, and she wondered if the man was even awake. Her every thought begged that he not be, that she could escape before she might have to deal with exactly what she knew had happened.
<Don’t panic>, she repeated to herself. Her throbbing head refused to allow her to think properly. She realized with acute fear that she couldn't remember where she had been the night before.
She could remember going to Molly's party, something of a dull occasion. Someone handing her a drink that had tasted bitter but with all courtesy she had drunk it.
<It better not be Melvin.> Serena screamed mentally: he had been there, gods he had been there, popping up at her elbow every second to compliment her dress, her shoes, her hair ties, her choice in snack foods. The only thing she could remember clearly was the overwhelming need to kill the little twerp and put him out of his own misery, but refraining for Molly's benefit. The possibility that it might be Melvin worked as a wonderful comparison when she felt the hand continue to sooth her hip.
There was too much tenderness in the touch, too much sensuality and hidden strength. She knew from that touch alone that it wasn't the school dweeb, and once again she was stuck attempting to figure out whose bed she was in. She didn't want to move, didn't dare to move in fear of waking whomever lay behind her. She needed control of the situation before she did anything. After all, it wasn't like it was going to go any further; she and whoever he was had gone as far as she knew they could.
"Hmm...." A male voice hummed behind her, causing her to shiver.
No, it was definitely not Melvin. The voice was far too deep. For a second she had a flash of the night before: a low growling at the base of her ear, sending her into more acute shivers. She shook the vague image and sound from her memory trying to divest herself of it. The hand on her hip slipped around to the front of her bare belly, dangerously close to her lower regions. And although she had undoubtedly lost her virginity to this man, she was not comfortable with the contact or even the idea of physical contact in such areas with anyone. She felt alert and aware and extremely uncomfortable. She decided, as the man behind her was still asleep, to try and find her clothes before he woke. Just as much as the contact was unnerving she didn't want to imagine him seeing her naked... again.
<Just breath, you can do this>, she encouraged herself, as her small fingers snaked in under the blankets. She gently grasped his hand, pulling it away from her before dropping it to the side like a hot coal. Then moving as slowly as she could so as not to wake her bed companion, she extracted herself from the bed. She found herself standing a step from the bed faster then she had expected, her heart was racing with uncertainty. She had never been in a situation like this before, and she had no idea how to respond. <Okay, now find out who it is>, she ordered herself, but her body refused to obey that one command. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was a need to delay the inevitable; she wasn't sure and couldn't tell. All she knew was that her body would not turn to face him. <All you have to do is one little thing Meatball brains, just take a peak. One glance is all it will take.> But still her body refused. When the man made a noise that signaled he might be waking, she did the only thing she could. She yanked the bedroom door open and dived into the hallway, completely naked and immediately hoping there was no one else home.
-editing ends-
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
Serena breathed, her body pressing back against the door she had just lunged through, as she tired to regain control of her body. Something she felt would not be as easy to do as she wanted it to be. She clenched her eyes shut, her head tilted to the roof and pressed against the door. Her ears where alert for noise, any noise, but the only thing she could hear was her erratic heart pounding within her chest.
Calm down. She reminded herself, trying to listen beyond the thundering sound, only to find silence. For a moment she was worried she had somehow lost the ability to hear, but she scowled at herself for the thought. It’s just quite. It means there’s no one else here, or at least not awake. She forced herself to swallow the idea, allowing herself to believe it although her trembling body seemed to be ignoring her logical pleas.
It was some time, standing in the dark silence before she had the courage to open her eyes She almost expected someone to be standing before her smirking at her childish actions and was relieved to find she was still alone. A quick glance down the left and right of the corridor, revealed little to encourage her, to her left was dark and her right had the barest flickering of light. There was still no sign of where she was.
She decided to try the right. Heading towards light always seemed like the good idea. So as silently as she could she crept through the corridor, her ears picking up the tiny creaks the floor felt compelled to make as she progressed, but nothing else. The silence that encompassed her surroundings did little to assist frayed nerves and she found herself cursing every breath she took and every footfall for the noise they made.
Entering what she immediately recognised to be a lounge room of an apartment and finding it empty she began her search for her clothes. What her clothes would be doing in a lounge room she didn’t want to think on, but she found them, scattered about the room and mingled with what was obviously a mans clothing. She ignored his clothes, as she quickly pulled her own on. Stiff and sore muscles protested the movements required to dress but they where promptly ignored as she continued.
She was glad at least that the clothes she pulled on where the ones she had been wearing the night before, she didn’t want any more mystery’s to pop into existence until she had dealt with this one.
When she was dressed in her knee length dark pink skirt, white tank top and light pink over shirt she looked about the room purposefully, determined to find out who’s house she was in before she left. The weight of clothes on her body gave her an abnormal amount of courage, all though she did not feel a fraction more secure.
She strained in the gloom to see pictures or any identifiable objects and found her head just that little bit too dizzy to complete the task. With a groan she stumbled past the lounges and found the blinds pull string, yanking it fiercely and flooding the room with the blazing morning sun.
Erg… Light. Another groan escaped her lips, as she tried to shield her eyes, her head reeling from the abrupt change in lighting and she decided the first thing she had to do was find something for her pounding head. Then she could deal with the situation, then she could figure out what the situation was, more to the point, who it involved.
It was three steps back into the room, away from the curtains that her eyes happened to fall upon a clock blinking happily across the room for her. She stared at the numbers for a long time trying to figure out what was so important about them. Am I meeting the girls? Maybe there’s training. She growled at herself, it sounded so wrong. Lunch with Lita? No, that’s not right… nice but not right. Meeting Raye for… Something? She gave a little laugh at the thought. Maybe studying with Amy. No. We did that all yesterday for that exam t… Her mind seemed to fizzle to a halt, her eyes reading the numbers again and again to be certain. But every time she read the numbers, Eleven o’clock blared back at her. For that exam… She found herself unable to move under the weight of the second horror of the morning. For that exam… today. Her heart stopped as the admittance rang through her head.
Her mother was going to kill her, her mother was going to know! Of course, Miss Haruna the busy body would call her house and ask why she wasn’t at school. Her mother would never let her go anywhere again, Molly might even admit Serena hadn’t stayed at her house last night as they had initially planned. Melvin would spread the gossip so quickly bush fires would look slow in comparison.
Frantically Serena searched for idea’s anything to save her. Keep it simple. She told herself repetitively as she looked about the room. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but ideas would have been the most helpful thing right then. She couldn’t go to school, not this late, the damage had been done already. She needed sympathy. She needed… she needed to be sick.
An idea formed, the only one she could think of on such short notice. Get home immediately, that was the first step. Her mother had to think she was sick, had to think Serena hadn’t gone to school because of the sickness. She would make the rest up as she went, get to Molly as quickly as she could and find out what she had told everyone else. That works. Serena told herself with determination, there was nothing else she could hope for as far as a plan went so she settled it. She needed to be home, and as fast a possible.
Her feet moved at a speed that she was accustomed to. She suddenly didn’t care who’s house it was, who’s bed she had been in, all that mattered was that no one found out. Maybe she would have to tell Molly, her friend had a way of making her admit things like that. She stuffed her feet into her high heels, a brief thought that she should stop at Molly’s to change was pushed away, she had no idea how she would get past Molly’s mother and the risk was too great.
It was as her hand was reaching for the door nob that fate decided to intervene on her mad dash. The shrill beeping of her communicator made her heart stop and her body freeze. Awareness struck her and she crushed her eyes shut, gently touching at her wrist for the device in pathetic hope. But it wasn’t there. At least that much she remembered, Luna’s late night call. And she had foolishly ignored the cat, she had foolishly tucked the watch under the mattress to muffle it’s sound.
Oh god! Luna! The cat was going to kill her. Forget her mother, her mother would just make her feel bad if she ever discovered what had happened here. Luna… Luna would kill her, then she’d kill whoever he was. Not that, I’d argue that. She amended with venom, her mind reasoned if she couldn’t remember it, something had been wrong with her the night before. And besides, she had just lost something, something she couldn’t take back no matter what she did and that made her angry.
The beeping continued, rousing her from vengeful thoughts and she realised with fear that it seemed to be getting louder.
Her feet reacted to the fear, driving her back into the room she had woken in. She didn’t look at him but to notice he seemed to still be asleep. She fell to the floor beside the bed, her hand lunging in beneath the mattress and feeling around franticly for the thing. Had it been anything else she would have left it to it’s own devices but she could just see the others expressions if she lost the communicator.
She found it after only several more beeps and pulled it out in triumph. Her automatic reflexes kicking in as she flipped the lid open and pressed the button that flashed at her at a speed that seemed as agitated as the beeping had sounded.
Luna’s face flickered onto the screen just as Serena realised what she had done. She saw the cat take a deep breath, her eyes furry filled and was shutting the lid just as the cats voice resonated from the machine.
“Serena Tsukino what do you thin-“ And the voice was cut off with the small click of the communicator. Serena found herself trembling immediately, the volume of the stupid cat. The volume had been enough to wake the dead. She raised herself slowly from the ground where she had thrown herself to retrieve the communicator. Her eyes hesitantly inching over the top of the mattress, stealing herself to check on the sleeping figures state.
She wasn’t prepared to lock eyes with a pair of highly alert dark blue eyes that where staring in her direction with what seemed surprise. She wanted to break the stare, blink, figure out who it was, but she couldn’t look away from those eyes. She kept raising, hoping that as she stood he would look away or something else would happen. She was even praying for a klutz attack to break the contact because she could not remove her gaze, even if her life had depended on it she knew she wouldn’t have looked away.
And all at once she realised she knew those eyes, the expression may have been alien, but the eyes she knew without a doubt better then her own eyes.
“Darien.” She whispered in shock and fear, slowly backing towards the door, knowing this was the last place she wanted to be at that moment. His eyes locked on her an array of emotions flicking through their near black depths, none of which she recognised, none of which she understood.
Stupid Communicator. She growled mentally her back pressing against the wooden door. Stupid Luna. Her hands slowly felt around for the handle and gripped the metal nob. Stupid Negaverse. Then in a flurry of movement she had turned the handle, opened the door and propelled herself into the corridor. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid Serena.
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
Serena ran. It was probably the fastest running she had ever done in her life. Even as Sailor Moon running from a Youma she doubted her feet had carried her at such speeds. Her feet barely touched the ground as she pelted down his hallway, wrenching his door open and propelling herself out of his apartment her feet moving faster then her thoughts.
That’s why when she was furiously striking the button to summon the elevator her thoughts had not progressed beyond one single realisation.
I slept with Darien. It played on repeat, as she continued to jam her thumb into the down button her eyes flicking towards his slightly ajar door, terrified that he might follow her.
Gulping down the idea, glancing at the lights that indicated the lifts progress she decided the risk of waiting wasn’t worth it, and fled down the corridor to the blaring green exit light. With the same speed and ferocity she had used on his door she yanked the fire stairs door open and propelled herself down the hundreds of grey concrete slabs.
Breath. She reminded herself and air was sucked in at an alarming rate. She couldn’t tell when she had lost the ability to draw those breaths in without thinking about them, all she knew was now she needed that reminder. Another breath was drawn in as she tumbled to the bottom of the stairs.
What if he got on the lift and his waiting for me in the foyer? She froze, her hands resting on the door, her ear pressed up against the solid surface. Her heart was pounding from the abrupt exercise and the indeterminable emotions pumping through her body at speeds beyond her imagination. Why would he have bothered doing something like that? She found suddenly that the conflicting emotions had all somehow gained a voice for themselves and she was stuck, trying to decide which voice to listen to. She wanted to leave, now, get out as fast as she could, but she didn’t want to… couldn’t risk facing him. But then other parts of her took into play, the parts that somehow, despite everything wanted him to have chased after her, the parts that said if he did then it hadn’t been such a mistake.
Okay Serena. She reminded herself, ear still straining for noise through the double insulated fire door. Just take a breath and go, the more you delay the more chance that he’ll be there. Again she hesitated, then squashed the traitorous part of her mind that was begged her to wait just that little bit longer.
She wanted to run out of the stair well and make a mad dash to the exit but her body and mind, slightly more controlled now insisted that she at first see if there was anyone in the apartments foyer. So she slipped through the door, her eyes skimming past pot plants, across mirrors and through the shadowed corners, then alighting on the lift. The lights above it indicating it’s progress upwards beyond the level she had been on.
A part of her broke at the realisation that there was nothing to detain her from casually walking out of the complex, a part of her, traitorous though it was fed her an unexplainable regret. Again she crushed the raw emotions and despite the solitude, she ran through and out of the foyer determined if nothing else to sway her mother away from a heart attack and prevent her possible disowning.
* * * * *
She got lost on the way home, not drastically so, but enough to detain her longer then she wanted. Every second wasted was an itch on raw nerves, a second closer to her mother finding out.
Luna, she resolved along the way, will probably have to be told the truth. And as little as that appealed to her it seemed the most likely way to keep the cat from telling the other Senshi, if the rat of a thing hadn’t already.
But her mother. She would tell any lie to prevent seeing the shame only a mothers eyes could convey.
* * * * *
Arriving at her doorstep out of breath and a little haggard from her run Serena decided to compose herself before ringing the door bell. Of course her keys where at Molly’s, at least she assumed they where, tucked safely in her overnight sack so she would have to face her mother before she even crossed the threshold.
She didn’t catch her breath properly, figuring that a little breathlessness would add to the overall dramatic effect she needed to achieve. It helped, oddly enough, that this encounter terrified her, as if she suspected one look and her mother would know immediately what she had done. Don’t all mothers do that? Her skin was a dead white when she finally raised her hand to the door and knocked. She was afraid to use the bell, it would have felt oddly intrusive.
Maybe this is a bad idea. Serena cringed inwardly, knowing the chances of her plan failing, but unable to think of anything even slightly better.
Her mother didn’t give her long to contemplate the merits or lack-there-of of her plan, because the door swung open to reveal the cheerful expression of her purple haired mother. It took less then a second for the smile to flatten into an undeterminable expression that scared Serena more then the rage she often glimpsed when bringing test papers home.
Decided her plan needed to be taken up a notch she forced her body out of the terrified lock of muscles and began to sway, just that little bit. She wondered how convincing she looked, as her mother began to open her mouth, over the first stages of unbelieving shock.
Serena made an uncomplimentary pathetic sound and made herself stumble forwards a bit. She wanted to catch the door frame before she went to far but the second she let herself go that little bit her throbbing head seemed to take orientation from her, and she stumbled head long into her mother. Had she been able to remove the chiming that ricocheted through her skull and focus her eyes she would have seen her mothers deadly expression shift into the perfectly natural “My daughter is dying, and I’m so ashamed because I was about to yell at her.” expression. An expression Serena hardly ever got to see.
She did however feel her mother soothing her back and whispering calm reassurance to her. And she had enough sense when her mother began to lead her to the couch to make a few more pathetic noises and mumble something about her room. Her mother, somehow understanding helped her hobble up the stairs.
Serena was surprised her head was pulsating again. She must have done something horrible to it the night before, because she was finding the need for acting skills completely unnecessary, right then she felt like throwing up. A mumbled word about that and her mother had her in the bathroom hugging the toilet bowl all the while still muttering reassurance and holding her hair back. Serena surrendered to the inevitable, letting her stomach go and the ringing in her head seemed to ease that little bit when she was done.
Afterwards was hardly registered as her petite mother somehow got her into her room. It was a struggle convincing her mother that she was well enough to change on her own. But she refused, absolutely refused to allow her mother to see any evidence of her nights activated, and something told her there would probably be evidence. But what would I know. Serena conceded half asleep on her feet. She didn’t bother to change, but managed to kick one shoe off before she curled in under her blankets. She was sure to pull the blankets up to below he chin so her clothes where concealed.
Complete exhaustion hit her as she snuggled into the bed trying to find that perfect spot desperately but not seeming to manage the feat. She resigned herself for a suitably comfortable spot on the bed, the perfect spot a bit to much for her foggy mind. And as her eyes closed the last thing she noticed were Luna’s darkened blue eyes watching her intently from the windowsill.
I don’t think I want to wake up. Was the last thought Serena had before sleep claimed her exhausted body.
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
The acidic tang of vomit lying dormant at the back of her throat woke Serena. She vaulted out of bed the second her mind could register the flavour. There was an alarming screech from somewhere within her flying sheets and the soft thud which although she paid little attention to, had to signify Luna’s presence. All apprehension towards their inevitable meeting was forgotten as she dove into the bathroom.
The flavour in her mouth drove her stomach into a repeat of it’s earlier performance and she found herself for the second time that day clinging to the edge of the toilet bowl while she heaved her previous days meal out. She was mildly surprised there had been anything left after her first encounter with the toilet bowl that morning, but the thought didn’t hold her for long.
“Serena, dear? Are you okay?” The near angelic voice of her mother carried up the stairs, smothered with concern.
Serena struggled for breath, to reply as calmly as she could.
“I’m fine mum.” The flavour of vomit again made her recoil and she spat into the bowl with disgust.
“Are you sure dear?” The almost silent sound of a footfall on the stairs made Serena tremble a little. Her mind wasn’t quite focused but warrior instincts told her she didn’t want her mother to climb those stairs. With every bit of control she contained she breathed deeply and replied in her cheeriest voice.
“Yeah, Mum. Just…” She faltered. Just what? Just vomiting? Just brushing my teeth to get rid of the flavour? No, more cheerful. Jumping about because I’m bored. No sounds like I’m not even a little sick. She gnawed into her lower lip in deep concentration, her eyes falling onto the figure of a rumpled cat in the bathroom doorway.
“Just what dear?” Her mother’s voice was filled with dubious uncertainty.
Serena managed a small wince at Luna’s dark expression before she jumped back to the immediate problem. Oh! I’ve got it! “Just having a shower mum. I feel all sticky!” Just a dash of her usual tracklessness and a little cheer and she sounded like she was on the road to recovery, but not quite there yet.
“Okay dear. I’m making Chicken Broth, so when your done call out and I’ll bring it up for you.”
Okay so maybe there are advantages to losing your virginity and taking the day of school. Immediately she scolded herself, embarrassed of the thought and ashamed to have allowed anything so low to have passed through her mind, even if it had been because of food.
It wasn’t until she had heard her mother retreat back into the kitchen that her tense shoulder relaxed and her eyes fell back onto the black cat, registering it’s presence and acknowledging what it meant. Carefully she pushed sticky strands of hair behind her ear, giving her a clear view of the feline. Erk! I really do need a shower. She cringed and wiped her fingers onto her shirt, some how her hair had gotten in the way of her vomiting, hardly surprising considering how long it was.
“How much did you drink?” Came Luna’s clear voice.
It wasn’t the first thing she was expecting to leave the cats mouth. She might have accepted a string of curses in some dialect she didn’t understand, or a few scratches, but the calm rationality behind the question grounded her. In ways completely unexplainable to anyone who didn’t know Luna, calm when Serena had erred was not a common thing, and it often meant she had progressed past raging mad, which was not something Serena cared to witness. But then she wasn’t given a choice.
“Drink?” Serena repeated the word like it was foreign a bit unsure of what the cat meant. She knew what it meant, if anyone else was saying it, but Luna talking about alcohol seemed out of place. Besides she’s accusing me of being drunk! That little bit of realisation fuelled Serena into anger, but it dissolved before she got a chance to test it. She was still facing unknowable odds, she still had to convince the cat to keep her mouth shut, she still had to figure out what the hell had happened.
“Yes Serena.” The cat’s clipped voice continued, staring into Serena’s face, expression set. “Just because I’m a cat, doesn’t mean I don’t know a hang over when I see one.” For a second Luna looked a little more passive. “Though this seems a bit excessive even for a hangover.” It was muttered.
Serena didn’t hear any of the second half, her mind was caught on the first bit. A hang over? That’s ridiculous! “I didn’t drink anything!” Serena retorted, her voice raised and reverberating against the tiled walls. That I know of. For the hundredth time that day her heart stopped mid beat then jumped back into rhythm. “That I know of.” She repeated in a mumble of admittance. Her mind flashed back to that drink some boy at the party had handed her. And you, Serena Klutzoid, drank it without a thought. She felt oddly betrayed, if she could remember who the boy was she would have felt overwhelming anger and beaten him to a pulp, but she settled for betrayal. There had only been class mates at Molly’s party, it hadn’t been a random stranger, it had been someone she knew, purposefully getting her drunk.
How did Darien come into it? He wasn’t at the party, what would a collage student be doing at a fourteen years olds birthday party? Her head began to spin again.
She was still in a pile on the floor, one arm comfortingly wrapped around the toilet bowl, her hair matted and sweaty sticking to her face and arms, body pale and limbs trembling. Her short skirt ridding her hips, one high heel still tightly secure on her right foot, her shirt rumpled and blemished. Her eyes where dark with anger, planning revenge on a faceless, nameless enemy who had handed her a drink. Sure she would never get the chance to enact the vengeance, but it felt good to plan.
“That you know of?” Luna screeched, her hair prickling as her fast mind caught onto the implications that her charge had been tricked in some way.
“Serena honey?” Her mothers voice called up the stairs. Luna pressed to the floor in surprise.
“I tripped over Luna!” Serena shouted in response automatically. She pulled herself to her feet, flushing the toilet as she went, let her mother figure out how the sound fit into the scenario on her own, Serena didn’t care that much. She picked the abashed cat up and stumbled on her one heeled shoe back to her room.
Inside she locked the door behind her, deposited Luna on the bed and opened her cupboard. Right then, she could think of nothing better then a shower. Forget who got her drunk, forget that she had slept with Darien, she just wanted to wash it all away.
“What happened?” Luna asked in false control. Serena glanced over her shoulder as she withdrew a pair of shorts and a top. She stared at them for a second in deep contemplation, ignoring the ball of angry fur that was glaring at her from her bed.
Am I marked? How obvious is it going to be? I can’t wear this. I need something else. Her mind was a jumble, as it forgot the shower in a sudden realisation that she had to check how obvious it was. She didn’t know, didn’t know anything about situations like this. Crumpling onto a spot on the bed beside Luna she stared at her cupboard. Clothes for summer, short pants, tight tops, singlets, none of it seemed like it would be willing to cover any damages she might have obtained the previous night.
A little part, that traitorous part came back and tried to scold her for thinking Darien would hurt her. Sure his a jerk, but his… he wouldn’t… he just…
Tiny tears began to form in the depths of her eyes. She couldn’t hear Luna talking to her trying to coax her into talking. All she could do was stutter in her own mind, trying to defend him, ashamed for doing so, trying to tell herself it hadn’t happened, desperately trying to dig up memories that had disappeared. But all of it felt so surreal, so wrong and out of place, like she was missing so much more from the whole equation.
And the problem, the thing that drew the tears down her checks until they where a silent flood that she tried to hide from Luna by burying her head in her hands, was she couldn’t think of a single reason why he wouldn’t. Why it was impossible, why it shouldn’t have happened, why it couldn’t have happened, except for the one. Darien hates me.
And the thought broke her.
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Property of Kimra Lelanst, do not duplicate without consent. |
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