You Of All People 2 Her Life Depends On I

"I can't see it's too bright, why the h.e.l.l does my head hurts, d.a.m.n it!" Violet tried to touch her eyes but she's unable to lift her arm, like there's something clamping down her whole body tightly. Something warm. And it feels like home. When she finally managed to open her eyes, the first thing she saw was the beautiful sunrise in between the horizon where the sky meets the sea. Followed by the sound made by the seagulls, winds, cras.h.i.+ng of the waves, and the snores of someone beside me. Enthralled by the view, she can't take her eyes off of it.

"Wait..... what?!!!!!" Violet robotically looked sideways and found a b.u.t.t-naked man. His face buried on the crook of her neck and his body tightly embracing her whole being. Then she slowly glanced down on her body and to her horror she too was the same.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" shrieked Violet as she pushed the man away and pulls the comforter, like her life depends on it, to cover the last shred of her dignity.

Woken up by the scream then abruptly thrown of the bed, King stood up and screamed in panic, "What?! What happened? Is there a burglar? Fire?!!!" not noticing his current predicament.

After he stood up, all the more did Violet screamed on the top of her lungs and hastily covered her eyes with her hands. King looked down, slowly sinking-in that he's naked standing in front of a stranger. He stepped forward and tugged the comforter towards himself.

"W-who are you? Give me some cover! f.u.c.k!"

"Get the f.u.c.k out of my house! Stop pulling!"

"This is my house! That is my comforter. The bed's mine too."

Booth of them keep playing tug-of-war over the cover. Seeing the woman on the brink of crying, King surrendered. Violet hurriedly covered herself. King saw his boxer by the balcony. He strode towards it and wore it in front of her. Then recollections from last night resurfaced on his mind and also on Violet's mind. They stared blus.h.i.+ngly onto each other's body. Examining all their love marks: hickeys, bruises, lipstick stains, bite marks and scratches that they imprinted towards another on that pa.s.sionate night, drunk in love. Oblivious to that una.s.suming papers sticking out of the cupboard, a paper that tied their fates together with no escape.