Eloquence

She felt violated. He touched places that have never been touched--Places that she felt should never be touched--Well, not until marriage, at least. She was mortified, really. She was still going through her more awkward phase in her adolescence, and knew that her body wasn't finished developing. She also knew that Andrew had been with girls his age and even older. Those girls weren't underdeveloped, like she was.

Would he be comparing her to those other girls?

She rubbed her face roughly with her hands, forcing back tears for nearly the seventh time that morning. She wasn't on to cry in public. She thought it looked childish, and she wasn't a fan of showing her vulnerability to others. Not even to Andrew.

Jordan uncrossed her arms from over her chest, pushing the door to her apartment complex open, and stepping inside the warm lobby. Her boots squeaked against the faux-marble flooring as she made her way toward the elevator, stepping inside as the doors slid open. Three other individuals were piled inside with her, one of which lived across the hall. He was a in his mid-twenties, and his name was Alex. He had always been very polite to Jordan, and always mentioned that she was a very lovely young girl. She took in his appearance, and judging by the bouquet of pink and white daisies in his hands, she assumed he was visiting his love interest, Brianna, who lived on the third floor.

"Good morning, Jordan." He greeted.

She sent his a half-hearted smile. "Hi Alex, how are you?"

"I'm wonderful." He grinned. "How are you?"

Jordan merely shrugged, looking up at him with pursed lips. His brow furrowed, and he eyed her for a moment. She could tell he was taking in her extremely dishevelled appearance, from her messy ponytail, to her wrinkled clothing.

"Rough night?" He asked softly.

"My night was fine." She sighed. "Rough morning, more like."

"Hm, let me guess." He paused. "Boy troubles?"

She blushed. "Yeah."

"Of course." He chuckled. "It seems us boys cause more problems than anything else."

She nodded. "You do."

The doors slid open, revealing the third floor. He smiled lightly at Jordan, ruffling her hair in an affectionate manor. "Don't worry. He'll come around, I'm sure. Any guy would be stupid to let a girl like you slip between their fingers."

Jordan blushed. "Thanks, Alex."

He smiled crookedly, waving as the doors slid shut. Jordan glanced at the other occupant of the elevator; an older woman who lives a few floors above her. She wore a black, button-up coat with a fur collar, black tights and heeled, leather boots. Her hair was in a curly mound at the top of her head, with a few fallen curls framing her face. She had a beauty mark above her lip, and a pointed nose. Her eyes were a vibrant shade of blue, and her lips were always painted a deep, blood-red. Jordan had learned her name was Miss Amelia Collette, and that she teaches french, Spanish and Italian at the high school.

The woman glanced back at her, and Jordan quickly adverted her gaze, embarrassed by the fact that she had been caught staring. the elevator then stopped on her floor, and the shiny, mirrored doors slid open. With one last glance at the woman, Jordan stepped out, making her way down the hall. She stopped at her door, pulling her keys from her coat pocket and opening the door. She unzipped her coat, sliding it off and hanging it on the rack. She rubbed her hands together, creating warmth and looking around the seemingly empty apartment.

"Jordan, is that you?" Her Mother appeared in the kitchen, looking slightly worried.

Jordan stared at her Mom with wide eyes, having not expected her home until later that evening. "Y-yeah."

"I came home early and you were gone! Honey, where were you?" She exclaimed. "Where's your bra?"

Jordan looked down at herself, realizing that she had forgotten it back at the abandoned pent house. With a sniff, Jordan couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst into tears, looking down at the floor shamefully. Her Mother's eyebrows rose, but she was quick to make her way towards her hysterical daughter, wrapping her in a thick, wool blanket and bringing her to the sofa. She pulled her into her lap, rocking her back and forth, as if she was a baby.

"Sweetie, what happened?" She asked softly, brushing the hair, wet from her tears and sticking to her cheeks, behind her ears.

"I-I went out with Andrew last night, Mummy." She choked. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You were with him?" Jordan nodded against her chest. "For the whole night?" Again, she nodded. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"

Jordan nodded, then hesitated. She shook her head. "No, he didn't hurt me."

"What happened?" Her tone darkened. "What did he do to you?"

Jordan was silent, playing with the edge of her t-shirt.

"Sweetie, please tell me what he did." She pleaded.

"Well, we woke up this morning and-and then we were kissing." Her eyes flickered nervously to her Mother's face, gaging her reaction through her expression. When she showed no sign of disgust or anger, she continued. "And it was nice, just like the... The other times." Again, she blushed, rubbing her eyes. "And then he just starting grabbing me really roughly, and-and-" She let out a sob. "And his hands went up my shirt and he was touching my breasts and he was being really rough." She took a minute to regain herself, wiping the moisture from beneath her eyes. "And then he was unbuttoning my pants and he was hurting me, and I freaked out-Mom, I'm so embarrassed."

"Oh, honey." She cried. "I'm so sorry. See? This is why I said you shouldn't hang out with older boys. They only think about themselves and their needs."

She sniffed. "He said that he thought that I wanted it."

"Well, don't worry." She cooed. "You never have to see that jerk ever again."

"But I really like him, Mom." Jordan whispered. "I want to be with him."

Her Mother was silent for a minute. "Honey, have you and Andrew been... Intimate?"

Jordan shook her head. "No, Mom."

"Do you ever want to be?" She frowned.

"I don't know. Maybe." Jordan spoke honestly, looking up at her Mother in embarrassment.

Her Mother sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I was hoping we wouldn't have to have this talk until you were older, but I guess considering the events of last night... Jordan, we should talk. About... Sex."

Jordan let out a groan, standing from her mother's lap. "I'm too tired. We'll do this later."

And with that, Jordan made her way to her bedroom, and collapsed onto her cream and pink, Victorian-patterned bed spread.

----

Andrew glanced toward his feet, picking up the gold, lace bra off of the floor. He held it out in front of him, comparing the size of the cups to the size of Jordan's chest. With a sigh, he realized she had left it there, and stuffed it into the pocket of his coat. He neatly folded the blankets and brought them back to their rightful spot. He turned the lock on the doorknob, pulling the door shut behind him and twisting the handle to make sure it was locked.

As he made his way out of the building, Andrew thought of only Jordan. The way her lips, so full and soft, felt against his, and the way her skin felt against his finger tips. He thought of the sound she made when he lightly nibbled on the skin of her neck, and the way she gasped when his cold hands made their way up her shirt. He felt bad about what he did--He really, really did, but he didn't regret it.

Well, he regretted the way he did it, not the fact that he did. He should have been so much more gentle, and touched her like she was something delicate. As if she would fall to dust if he touched her too firmly. He shouldn't have just grabbed her, he should have asked her if it was okay every step of the way. That way, she wouldn't have been so afraid. She might even have let him go much farther than he had.

He shivered at the thought. God, he wanted her so badly.