The Darkness Within

by Taylor K. Scott

  “Sorry,” he whispers with a giggle on his breath, “I couldn’t resist sneaking up on you. Those PJs are certainly distracting.”

  I turn easily inside of his cage around me, but my grin is quickly knocked from my face when I look up at his.

  “Bowie! Look at your face!” I gape at his bruised jaw, a split lip, and swollen eye. “Are you ok?”

  “I’m fine,” he chuckles, “your boy has some moves.”

  Given that Matt has just slapped me across my face, in my very own home, like some mindless thug, I don’t take well to the reference that everyone seems to use when talking about Matt and me in the same sentence. I can’t help but feel angry, even if it is towards the boy who broke down his barriers and showed everyone that he’s with me today.

  “He is not my boy! How many times-” he places an index finger to my lips and grins.

  “I meant me,” he says and presses his lips against mine. “I’m your boy.”

  It’s not the first time Bowie Phillips has stunned me into silence, but I can honestly say this is one of the first times he’s done so through affection rather than animosity. He stands before me grinning like he knows exactly how much his words have got to me. Rather than say anything, I cup his cheeks and begin to kiss the crap out of him. It soon turns into instant, have-to-have-you-now, lust. Our tongues shoot inside each other’s mouths, exploring and wrestling furiously and without any eloquence to it.

  With the curtains wide open and the tiny potential threat of my parents walking in, we throw caution to the wind and begin to rip each other’s clothes off. We then begin to worship each other in nothing but our naked flesh. In moments, I’m hoisted from my stance on the kitchen tiles and thrown onto the sofa, still with Rocko twanging out his Aussie accent, where my legs are nudged open with his knee. His body crawls over mine, giving me his warmth and hardness, while I reach for his gorgeously soft hair. His teeth nip into my neck as his hands reach between my legs and begin rubbing through my lips, all the while we kiss, suck, and fight one another for each other’s bodies.

  Two of his fingers work inside of me and I find myself tilting my hips to meet them, desperate to have more and more of him. All of this with the boy who has hated me; the boy who has now declared he’s mine.

  “Are you really my boy?” I breathe out.

  “You know it, baby,” he says in between kisses.

  “Then claim me too, I need you inside of me now!” I pull at him urgently, though he doesn’t need much persuading.

  He is up and rubbing himself up against me, tearing at a foil packet, and fumbling over suiting himself up. But then, he slides in with one hard thrust. We both release an all-consuming moan, and I realize it no longer hurts as it did before. I just feel incredibly…full. I pull him even closer, silently telling him to go harder with me, to not hold back, and he doesn’t, not one bit. His hands grip mine as he moves so fast, so deep, that I soon feel a need to explode. I release a whimper, one to tell him I’m getting close. He covers my mouth with his, kissing me deeply until I erupt with a euphoric sensation.

  As I come back down, I feel him release inside of me with a pulsating throb, followed by a throaty growl. It’s a satisfying sound to my ears, and I smile at him with a blush I can feel spreading right over where Matt hit me earlier.

  Minutes later, we’re still panting and fighting to get our breath back after our mad, heated, sex session. He looks at me with perspiration coating his forehead and a crimson hue to his cheeks. I kiss him chastely on the lips before he finally drops his head to my chest, both of us sated and…happy.

  Somehow, without having any real memory of it, we had got upstairs and into my bed, where we fooled around a bit before falling into a deep sleep.

  When I wake, I tense up with a momentary fog as to why I am now lying up against a warm solid body of muscle next to me. The gentle snoring falling into the air tells me he’s still under, so I do not attempt to move his arm which is currently draped over my shoulders.

  I smile to myself, having really expected him to have left me, even after everything he had said to me last night. In fact, I can’t quite believe he’s really still here and I’m not having hallucinations or still half asleep, so I poke him on his shoulder just to make sure. I have to bite my lips together to hold back a laugh when he grumbles, then falls back into snoring.

  My clock reads just after six, a full hour earlier than I needed to get up, which is so typical of me. Yesterday’s jumble of events begins to mill around my mind, and I instantly reach up to my cheek where Matt had struck me. It’s warm, raised, and no doubt sporting a lovely, flushed mark against my pale skin. The guy certainly knows how to hit.

  My phone pings through a message from Gabe, panicking about the six missed calls from me, and in the process, stirs my bed mate. He opens the one eye facing me and smiles before using the arm that’s wrapped possessively around my chest to pull me in closer. I’m just mentally fist-pumping the air over the fact he hasn’t woken up cursing this time around.

  “Morning, beautiful,” he mumbles into the pillow, “why are you up so early?”

  Shuffling down onto the pillow next to him, I mentally take stock of how bad my bed-breath is and then give him one of my best smiles, which has no doubt turned into one of those cheesy grins that have you looking like a bad yearbook photo.

  “I’m a horribly early riser,” I explain, shrugging over the fact I always wake with the birds, bar the time when Grant got sent down for rape. However, I choose to keep that to myself, for obvious reasons.

  His grin turns into a frown as he places his fingertips over the warm patch of skin on my cheek, the spot where Matt had slapped me.

  “What’s this?” My hand instantly goes to cover it, a truly useless motion. In fact, it just makes him even more riled up. “Did someone hit you?”

  “It’s nothing,” I reply dismissively, “I must have walked into something, I’m so clumsy!” I try to laugh it off, but he looks murderous, showing my lying skills are still proving to be pathetically bad.

  “Millie! Who did this to you?” he shouts, sitting upright and trying to get more of a thorough look at my cheek just in case whoever did it has left their signature and contact details behind. “Did he do this to you? Did Matt do this?”

  “Bowie…please,” I try to calm him down but I’m doing an appalling job of it because within seconds, he’s up and out of bed so quickly my vision of him blurs.

  “Now I really am going to kill him!” he growls, furiously looking around for his pants with his tackle flapping about all over the place. “How dare he fucking hit you?!”

  “Bowie Phillips!” I cry out angrily, also trying not to laugh over his semi-hard dick wobbling about between his thighs. “It’s six in the morning, it’s the first time you’ve stayed over and not regretted having sex with me. Get your cranky butt back into bed this instant!”

  I then point to the space he just vacated, instructing him like he’s my pet dog and needs firm boundaries to do as he’s told. I don’t hold out much hope for this is Bowie, the most stubborn man on the planet we’re talking about. However, something must have worked because he folds his arms, still fully naked, and gives me that trademark, smug smirk of his.

  “Well, that depends, Babe,” he replies, swaggering over to where I’m pointing with his brow raised up in question, “are you going to be this demanding in bed?”

  “You won’t know unless you do as you’re told, now, will you?” I answer, trying to sound as forceful as I can, which is not all that much, but my best, nonetheless.

  “Well, ok, beautiful,” he jumps in next to me, before grabbing hold and indulging me in an all-consuming kiss. His now fully erect cock presses into my thigh as a none too subtle hint as to what he’s after, and I have to laugh.

  “What?” he grins cheekily at me.

  “You’re too easy,” I explain on a shrug, “this is all a girl has to offer to get you to do what they want?”

  “No,” he
replies with his smile changing into a more serious expression. “This is all my girlfriend has to do to get me to do what she wants.”

  My mouth gapes open for a moment or five, just as he grins and starts kissing me all down my neck, with our limbs soon tangling up in one another.

  “Wait, so does that mean…” I begin, desperately not wanting to sound needy or pathetic, “does it mean…”

  “Spit it out, Sugar, so I can have you before school,” he says mid-kiss, not sounding quite as romantic as he just did with his girlfriend statement, but I’ll take it.

  “Does it mean I’m the only girl you’re going to be sleeping with?” I push it out quickly and hold my breath for his answer.

  “The only girl I’m going to be doing anything with, Millie,” he whispers, “and I’m the only guy you’re going to be doing anything with, right?”

  The cheesy grin returns, making me look about as cool as a full-blown, pom-pom-shaking, cheerleader over his declaration, but I still nod rather too enthusiastically, before I let him take me again…and then, maybe, again.

  A little before eight, Bowie finally unwraps himself from me and leaves via the front door to nip home before I meet him back at school. I shoot back inside to try and make myself look more presentable and to make sure it doesn’t look too obvious as to what I’ve been doing all night.

  Throwing random crap into my bag while I begin to panic over being late for school, I jump out of my skin when there’s a knock on the living room door. It can only be one person, but I’m not sure I’m ready to face him again, even if he has calmed down. He really scared me last night.

  “Millie, please!” Matt’s voice travels through the glass, making it a little distorted, thus causing his pleas to sound even more pathetic than he looks. I stand momentarily frozen in thought, conflicted over my guilt for being with his best friend but also angry for him hurting me last night. “I’m sorry, Millie, I was just so lost and…desperate.”

  Guilt wins out like it always does when it comes to Matt, and I find myself walking slowly over to the window where I turn the key to let him in. I still don’t have any words to say to him, so end up crossing my arms defensively and pouting in his direction. I also hope it also lets him know how deeply disappointed I am in him.

  His eyes dart straight to the light purple bruise across my cheek and instantly brings his hands up to cover his mouth before shaking his head as if in disbelief over his own actions. He anxiously paces up and down, trying to rationalize it all inside of his head, but soon becomes flustered when he can’t. He then returns to rubbing his head as if thinking over what he can possibly say to make this all go away again.

  “Are you actually going to say anything or just wear a hole in my floor?” I sigh sadly, trying my best not to let my guard down and tell him not to worry, that we’re all good, because we’re not. “I need to get to school, Matt.”

  “How could you give yourself to him, Millie?” He walks over to me with his hands wide open, like the idea is tantamount to killing his favorite dog or committing homicide on his entire family. “He’s my best friend and you knew how I felt about you!”

  “And you’ve known how I feel about you, Matt,” I reply in my defense, “I can’t help who I do and don’t fall for. Hearts don’t work that way.”

  “But Bowie?!” he practically screams. “The guy’s been nothing but a jerk to you!”

  “I know, but…” I merely shrug without giving him anything else because I don’t know what to tell him other than what I’ve already said. “Look, it doesn’t matter who it is, I am allowed to date people, Matt. Hell, I can date the entire football team if I want to. I’ve never stopped you from dating other people, even that bitch who threatened me last summer.”

  “I was only with her to make you jealous!” he cries out in frustration.

  “That’s not the best argument, Matt,” I deadpan. “We are adults, and we can date people. Am I supposed to stay single or something?”

  “Yes!” he shouts, and I gasp over his response. “No, I mean, you’re supposed to want me.”

  Despite everything, I feel bad for him. He looks so dejected as he flops defeatedly down onto the sofa, looking deflated beyond all belief.

  “I’m sorry, Matt,” I say softly, trying really hard not to sound condescending, “I truly am. I tried to have those feelings for you but it’s not fair on either of us to pretend, is it?”

  “Gee, you’re really making me feel good about myself here,” he huffs sarcastically.

  “It’s simple, Matt,” I say with new determination, “you either accept this and continue being my friend, or you don’t. I can’t force myself to feel those things for you, and I won’t have you dictate to me who I can and can’t go out with.”

  I feel strangely proud of myself, for being honest, which is what I should have been from the start. I then stand to show him the door. He follows me over and for a moment I think this is the end of us, that he will leave, and our friendship will be lost. Instead, he rounds on me at the last minute and gently takes both of my hands into his, trying his best not to look in any way aggressive.

  “I will try to be your friend, Mills,” he whispers, and I smile appreciatively, letting him wrap his arms around me. Even though his actions have made me question everything, and I’m still mad with him, I kind of feel better about our friendship. “Just don’t do any PDAs in front of me and know that he’s still dead to me.”

  “Right,” I reply a little nervously, “well I guess that’s up to you and Bowie to hash out.”

  We both make our way to the front door, grabbing our bags for school and falling back into a sort of friendly routine. Before I can say otherwise, he takes hold of my bag and slings it over his shoulder, just like he normally would when we walk to and from school together. However, something about it feels wrong now, like I’m betraying Bowie, who is now my boyfriend. But not letting him take it will be incredibly hurtful to my friend, so I awkwardly let him, then sigh over the fact that things have already begun to get complicated. I’m part of some weird love triangle.

  We approach the school gates together and I have a burning urge to break free of him, which makes me feel all kinds of terrible. He’s my friend and I’m wanting to ditch him because I know Bowie will go ape shit if he sees Matt walking me in with my bag slung over his shoulder. It looks much too possessive, especially to someone as alpha as Bowie, so I end up walking a little bit away from Matt, hoping against hope that Bowie doesn’t see us before I reach my locker.

  Matt, however, does not take the upper hand and as soon as we enter the busy corridor of lockers, he slings his arm around my shoulders while donning a shit-eating grin. I try to shuffle out of it, and I can safely say I’m not being altogether subtle about it either, but he spies Bowie waiting for me and keeps me rigidly by his side, pretending not to notice my protests. Before I can say anything, to tell him to let go of me, Bowie is all up in his face, the both of them sizing one another up like a couple of wrestlers talking smack right before the fight begins. My heart sinks and I close my eyes in frustration when the throng of students all turn to watch round two of the love triangle show. It’s enough to have me wishing for the old days of posted-up diary extracts or, even better, complete and utter invisibility.

  “What the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend?” Bowie growls in Matt’s face, baring his teeth and pointing directly into his chest, which is now puffed out like a frigate bird.

  “She was my friend first! What’s the matter, Bowie?” Matt asks with that same cocky grin, the one that is trying to convince Bowie that he now has the girl. “Worried she’ll come to her senses and choose me instead?”

  Mercy is suddenly at my side, sucking on a lollipop with the biggest grin on her face as she watches the show of alpha dominance before her. She nudges her elbow at my arm, stupidly thinking that I’m enjoying this ridiculous behavior.

  “Wow, two hunky dudes fighting over you,” she smirks, “two former friends,
no less. Your pussy must be made of gold!”

  “Mercy!” I shout angrily. “Do you think this shit’s funny?”

  “You are one vile little whore, aren’t you, Millie Thomas?” Melody slides up beside Chloe, with both of them sneering at me like I just crawled out of the gutter. “Getting between two best friends. How low can you get?”

  “If I have my way you won’t ever look at her again!” Bowie snarls before Matt aggressively pushes him away.

  “FIGHT!” A junior shouts and the crowd begins chanting for one or the other. It’s enough to finally have me seeing red.

  “ENOUGH!” I scream at the top of my voice. Everyone suddenly stops, including Matt and Bowie, who are now staring at me like I should be restrained and sent for a psychiatric assessment.

  “For fuck’s sake, will you two just drop it? I am not some toy to argue over and I am not a damn whore!” I then march over to Matt and yank my bag away from him. “Both of you can do one. I’m out of here!”