You Again [h.s]

2 . Trust

To say that my heart is beating quickly would be an understatement. It's beating so rapidly that I can feel it, hear it and if I looked down I could probably see it pounding against my frail skin. I feel like I am doing the walk of shame.

Most people are minding their own business or latching onto someone of their own, but many people - particularly girls are looking at me. Most of them give me dirty looks as if I am some whore. It must look like I am, but believe me I am far from that.

"That's my boy" a tanned guy with a bright pearly white smile and light brown quif high fives the guy that I am following. "She's nice." ...And she is standing right here you jerk.

I am regretting this, why did I come here? I should be at home with a blanket, sitting on my lounge with ben and jerrys in hand and watching Netflix.

As soon as we reach the door, the guy who I have to still yet catch his name pulls me inside and shoves me against it once he slams it shut. I inhale a deep breath and before I can exhale, his mouth is slammed against mine and his hands rake up and down my body amorously.

As good as it feels to have my lips on his again, and just to be able to forget about everything for these past few minutes, I can't help but listen to the voice deep inside my head. My ringing alarm bells are telling me stop Ella, stop.

"I can't do this." I break away my lips from his, feeling like Miley Cyrus in Hannah Montana the movie where she can't perform on stage as Hannah as people know she's now Miley.

I place my hands on his chest, attempting to push him away, only to be pushed against the wall harder than I was before. I push again at his chest, this time feeling the firm muscle built up underneath his black t shirt beneath my hands.

He realises that I'm not playing hard to get and in fact I actually want him to stop. Just by my hands on his rigid chest, I knew that he's very well defined and it wasn't going to be easy for me to get out from under his grasp if he didn't step away from me like he thankfully just did.

"Everything alright?" He asks, raking his hands though his hair and pushing it back off of his face.

I do this every time. My past always has a way of coming back to haunt me. Frustration grows within me and I shake my head in attempt of getting rid of all of the negative thoughts inside my brain. This guy is different. He's not him.