Chapter 4:

After I have pushed my way through a

sea of drunken teenagers I end up in

the kitchen, which is, like everything

else in the house: huge. If it weren't

for the large amount of bottles and

cups, littered across the tabletops and

Kitchen slabs, it would have looked

as if it had been taken straight out of a

magazine.

"Who's here?" I'm startled by a slurry

voice; one which I can't quite pin point,

until I turn around and find myself

face to face with the second biggest

asshole in town.

I'm standing paralyzed before him, as

his forest green eyes meet my icy blue

ones. I desperately fight the urge to

squeeze my yes shut and wait for the

first verbal blow that I know will soon

hit me.

Don't let them see how scared you are.

That's what Megan always tells me.

She's right; I can't let him see my fear.

With withheld breath I wait for his first verbal punch to hit me right in-between the armor I've built around my heart, like they

always seem to do, but he doesn't say

anything. He just stares at me, with

his deep green eyes, as if he's studying

my every move. It reminds me of a

killer watching his prey. After several

minutes of him watching me, I take

a deep breath and find it within me

to open my mouth and break the

silence between us. "What are you

doing in here alone?" I curse myself

for sounding so concerned. I can't be

concerned - not for him at least and

certainly not while I'm standing in the

deepest part of the lion's cage.

"I don't feel like partying," he slurs. He

is definitely wasted and it doesn't do

anything to suppress my concern for

him.

"Looks like you already did,"I mumble.

"Does look like it, huh?" His lips split in

a wide smile that has the power to melt

a thousand girls' hearts, only beaten by

Jason's heart stopping one, but it does

nothing to mine but alert it that danger

is present. His hurtful jokes and rude

glances have cast a dark shadow over

his charm along time ago.

I want nothing more than to turn on

my heels and leave this asshole, who

have humiliated me time after time,

behind to his drunken self, but I can't

get myself to move from where I'm

standing, in front of him.

"Can you -" he starts out, but never

finishes his sentence as he reaches for

a bottle on the counter behind me, but

miscalculate the distance and looses

his balance, sending him face first on

the way towards the ground. Without

thinking twice I step between him and

the counter and manage to catch a hold

of his shoulders. I push him back on his

feet and try to stabilize him, before I

remove my hands from his shoulders.

He's standing closer than he was before

and it's increasing the uncomfortable

feeling I get around him. 

"You're pretty," he slurs as his forest

green eyes bore into mine. I cross my

arms over my chest, as I divert my eyes

from his to a cabinet behind him. I'm

not beautiful or gorgeous or breath

taking and I'm not pretty - I've never

been and certainly not to anyone apart from Jason of course. I'm boring and unattractive - that's how it's always been and that's how it's always going to be.

"I should go,"I tell him, as I meet his

eyes with mine again. I know that if

He had been sober, I would have

never had the courage to talk to him

or even meet his eyes. But there's

something about his drunken state that

makes me believe that all of this will be

nothing but a dark hole in his memory

tomorrow.

"No." Even drunk he is as stubborn as a

child.

"Yes I should and by the looks of it you

probably should too." I know that I

have no authority over him, especially

not in a house that doesn't belong to

me, but that didn't stop me from trying.

"I won't let you leave until you

kiss me," he tells me as he takes an

unsteady step towards me.

"What?" my voice is a vague trembling

as I search his forest eyes for some

trace of humor, but there is none.

"Kiss me," he commands.

"No."I take a step back, wanting to

put as much distance between us as

possible. The plan fails as my back

comes in contact with the counter top. I

have nowhere to escape.

"Kiss me," he repeats his order, as he

grabs me hard; a hand on each side of

my face, forcing me to keep still as he

lowers his head down towards mine,

until our lips are only inches apart. I

squeeze my eyes shut as I wait for what

seems to be inevitable.

"Get off of her." I don't recognize the

voice; I'm too busy trying to pull my

head free from his grip. I don't realize who my hero is until that asshole was

being pulled off of me and then pushed

towards the door to the hallway. "Are

you okay?" His hazel eyes meet mine

and I have to fight my strong urge to

pinch myself.

I stare at him, because it's the only

thing I can do. He is the one who has

turned my life into an everlasting

nightmare and yet he is standing here, in

the middle of his girlfriend's kitchen,

having just saved me from his best

friend.

"Anyone home?" he chuckles

awkwardly, as he stuffs his hands into

the front pockets of his jeans. There's

a small smile playing in the corners

of his mouth, as my face turns bright

red from embarrassment. I watch him

in horror as he takes a step towards

me and raises his hand to my face. I

squeeze my eyes shut and prepare for

the sting of his palm, but when nothing

happens I reopen my eyes only to be

met with the sight of Christopher brown's

eyes filled to the brim with curiosity

and concern. His hand has moved from

mid air, in front of my face, to the back

of his neck. "You thought I was going to

hurt you?" he asks, his voice dripping

with concern. I'm confused, wasn't he

going to?

"I'm-"I start but don't know how to

finish. Christopher isn't drunk and it terrifies me cause he seemed like the party type.

"I wouldn't hurt you," he mumbles

as his eyes dart from mine to his

feet. Then silence falls upon us -

an awkward heavy silence, loaded

with the thought of everything I've

never said to him and the memory of

everything he's ever done to me.

In the midst of the silence, Christopher raises his eyes from the floor to meet mine

again. At the sight of his concerned

brown eyes I'm reminded that I still

haven't thanked him for pulling that ass hole off of me.

"I'm " I try to say, but when Christopher tilts

his head to the side, the way that my

my Uncle always does when she senses

that something is wrong with me, and

he looks at me with those deep eyes

that I swear can look into the darkest

parts of my soul, my strength crumbles

until there's nothing left of it but ashes

and I cry, like I've never cried before.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm

reminded of Megan and her 'show no

fear' policy, but it's too late; I can't stop

the floods of tears streaming down the

sides of my face.

"Shoot," he mumbles as my knees give

in on me and gravity starts to kick in.

I expect to collide with the cold, hard

kitchen floor tiles within seconds,

but it never happens. Instead I find

myself wrapped up in the warmth

and comfort of a pair of strong arms

that I never thought I would ever feel

wrapped around my fragile body. "It's

gonna be alright," he whispers as he

strokes my back in soothing circles. "I

promise you; it's gonna be alright."

I was crying cause at that moment I was reminded of jason, we haven't even had our first date yet just a hookup and the sex we had that's all, he wasn't even replying my messages I fell so sad that I had to let it out by crying like I had lost someone in my family, I also had thoughts that he was going to leave me like the others did, I didn't know what to think till Megan showed up and took me home.