Thirteen has always been an unlucky number for me. There's no reason why, nothings ever triggered me to think "thirteen is an unlucky number". It's just another doltish thing I think brings me bad luck. That's irrelevant, though.

Anyway. Austin came around today, finally. He'd ask me to go to his room but I refused being the stressy-teenager-like idiot that I am. (He really hadn't done anything wrong except for apologise and walk away from me. I was just making a mess out of something small.) When he came he acted like nothing happened, just happily sat on the edge of my bed and I wondered what he could be so happy about. Especially since I was sat there with a face like a smacked ass giving him the ugliest look I could. He just laughed at me.

"How can you sit there and act like nothing has happened over the last three days? Where did you go? Why did you leave the diner crying? Why is Ronnie mad at me? Why are you covered in bruises and shit? And where did you spring from yesterday in the hall?" I questioned, speaking quickly and I think Austin struggled to catch up with my string of questions. But, I needed to know. He stared for a bit, looking at me as if I'd just asked him to murder someone before he eventually parted his lips and words started to fall from his mouth. "Well.. I walked out crying because I felt bad, that's really all there is to that. I came back to the asylum, Ronnie saw me crying. He couldn't make out what I was saying since.. Well, I was in a state of hysteria and... The last thing I remember from that is him yelling at me about how he was going to do something to you because he caught the wrong end of the stick and thought you'd done something to me, I don't remember his exact words, then I don't remember. I was having a moment, ya know?" He paused taking a breath and I just stared, my eyebrows furrowing a bit cause well, he was saying so much and there's only so much I can take in at a time. "Then I guess we were pulled apart, because he beat me to the ground, hence the bruises. I got some one-on-one therapy, he was in isolation for a day. Yesterday, I don't even remember yesterday. It's a stressful blur and I don't really want to talk about something I don't remember and probably don't need to remember. Let me enjoy you because I missed you." He finally finished.

I didn't say anything back for a few moments, still taking everything in and let out a few soft sighs. I felt like he was lying but I didn't care anymore. I hadn't even known he was friends with Ronnie, honestly and the fact that he is bothers me but, I can't choose his friends so.

He crawled up the bed and slid under the covers beside me and at first it was cute, we were cuddling and kissing and just.. enjoying eachother before I started thinking with my dick and I tried to get him to fuck me. It didn't work, he's still got this thing about 'raping' me. (Which he did not do cause I never tried to get him off of me but what-the-fuck-ever.

So I ended up jerking with him in the room and his pants grew even though he continued to deny it but... I know what his dick looks like normally and when he's hard. That wasn't normal.

Fuck it. Just fuck me, you butt.
xo

Notes

ayyy lmao tell me st pls