Emery

My head pounded and the lights were too fucking bright. I blinked my squinting eyes. My hands went directly to my eyes. I gently rose on my hands unfamiliar bed I was on. Unfamiliar, just like the room I was in. Where the fuck am I?

“Morning,” I was startled by a voice right next to me. The fuck is he? He laughed.
“Suppose you don’t remember who I am?” His smiled beamed a thousand watts. I shook my head no and immediately regretted it, this fucking hangover. Fuck. Wait... Did we?
His laugh filled the room once more.
“I’m Trace.” Yeah, and I’m horrified. I looked under the covers to see if I was clothed. Thank god I was. His eyes got wide.
“I didn’t rape you.” Frozen, I stared. I nodded once more. Regretted it, again. I swear I never want to drink again.

“Coffee?”
“Yeah,” my voice was raspy. I face palmed. My feet planted on his carpeted floor. I stopped again, dead in my tracks.
“Uh…Parents?” He smiled an undeniably cute smile, his reaction to my question.
“I’m nineteen.” I mouthed ‘o’ and looked to the floor. His eyes got automatically wide.

“How old are you?”
“15.”
“Shit. You look older.” He shook his head walking out the room. I followed him out.

“And what do you mean by that?” I asked as he turned around in his kitchen and handed me a cup of coffee.
“Nothing….” Except that you are off limits. He thought out loud. I bet my lip, and looked at his. I wonder how much our lips were together last night. I hardly remember it. One of my drinks must have had something slipped in it.
“So, you don’t remember last night...at all?” He questioned me.
“Some of it,” I paused, thinking. “Why?” Why did it matter all that much to him? His mouth said nothing but his head said something else as he commented my looks inside his mind. He liked it, my appearance that is. We didn’t have sex. He confirmed this. He also confirmed about how he’d like to, but how, no, that was illegal.