Lust Has No Mercy

Taylor Goodwin stood proudly at the blue front door. His fiancee squeezed herself firmly into his grip. Her back exposed to the cold atmosphere, as his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Taylor held his knuckle up glancing down at the girl. 

"Are you ready?" he whispered into her ear. The warm air from his mint breath sent shivers through her body. The cold March air was already too much to bare in her little black cocktail. 

Rowan nodded reluctantly. She wasn't a party person. Taylor knew this, Taylor also took in the opportunity to fill her in on the surprise party her boss had planned for her. 

Contrary to popular belief Rowan was not sleeping with her boss. Though perhaps the thought may have crossed her mind once or twice. Oliver Sykes was not only her boss, but a friend from childhood, sort of. Well, Tom was more of the friend from childhood, Oliver was whom she'd spent her silly tween years admiring from afar. Rowan was definitely not going to let Taylor in on this small detail. 

-

Thomas Sykes swung the door open, a small look of confusion spread his face. 
"Wow Rowan, you look nice; Whatcha all dressed up for?" Tom asked trying not to crack a smile on what he was hiding behind the chipped blue loft door. 
"I-dunno" she shrugged nonchalantly distributing her weight on one foot than to the other. 
Taylor gave Tom a knowing smile as Tom allowed them entrance to the dark loft. Once he'd shut out the cold March air, he flicked the light on. Rowen cringed and shut her eyes as a roar erupted from her "friends." 

"Surprise!"

An eye roll slipped out along with a fake smile. Taylor pressed his lips to her forehead as blood rushed to her cheeks. Being the center of attention was not Rowan's idea of a fun time either. 
Their mutual group of friends beamed brightly at the couple, alcoholic beverages all in their tight grips; what seemed like one by one their friends had come up to greet the newly twenty-two year old.
A kiss on the cheek, a small hug, a high-five from Vegan which left her hand burning for at least fifteen minutes and a bone-crushing hug from Jona, whom like herself would not be drinking. 

Rowan situated herself on the black leather sofa, after what felt like hours of mingling with her party-attendees. All of which were more than pleased with her new "figure" and that she just seemed to glow. Rowan lost count of the "Are you pregnant?" questions she'd received followed by "It's okay, you can tell me." And immediately regretting Taylor's suggestion in bringing a coat with her to shield her from the cold. Taylor wasn't going to win that one though.

It hadn't been long for Oliver Sykes ventured his way on over to her. He dropped himself carelessly next to her, his long toothpick legs stretching out onto the ottoman. 
"Although you are the guest of honor-" Oliver started. Pausing briefly to sip his beverage. "You don't look like you're enjoying this at all." 

Rowan forced a sincere smile to her face as she glanced up at Oli.
"I am." She countered weakly, trying to make her smile more reinforcing. Her arms seemed to cross over her decreasing chest immediately. 
"Really?" Oli pressed, another sip and stretched before he turned back to her. 
"You look like shit." He spat out blatantly before quickly trying to recover from his presumptuous statement. Rowan was regardless, starting to grow offended. Her blue eyes began searching for her exit, who she'd finally spot drunkenly rubbing Tom's head. 
"What I mean is, you look amazing, but you look-look like you're poorly." Oliver fixed his statement, facing Rowan entirely now. His drink had now been placed upon the cherry-wood end table as he gave Rowan a full scan over once more. 

Rowan was defeated. She'd been here for hours now, suppressing her coughing fits and fighting the strong sense of lethargy. She couldn't let anyone in on her body's newest defense mechanisms. 

"I'm well, Oliver." She stated firmly and rather convincing. Rowan was quite proud of herself and Oli seemed satisfied with her answer. He sighed and rubbed her shoulder. 
"Just because we've thrown a party for you, doesn't mean you can be late tomorrow." He winked before standing up and leaving Rowan to be. 

A sigh of relief escaped as Oli had walked off to Amanda, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck. Rowan's issues if that's what you could call them were her own business right now. 

~*~*~*~*

Taylor's knees held his body weight as he continued to shake Rowan's cold shoulder. Her body remained limp and un-phased by his attempts. A small sense of panic began in his stomach. His face had begun to burn and a small film of sweat started to develop around his forehead. 
"Rowan." He no longer whispered, using both hands to shake her. Her body remained unchanged. Her dress wrinkled and bunched up around her waist. Her eyes nearly sewed shut. Rowan did not move. Her breaths were ragged and unsteady. 

Rowan did not move.