All I can feel is the deep thrumming of my pulse in my temples as I regain consciousness - still on the floor of my bedroom. I can remember but it's as though everything is jumbled, there's no timeline nor chronology. I remember one thing but then it is counteracted by another, the things not matching up. The places, the people, none of it making sense.

I want to talk to Colton but I don't know if I can trust him anymore, not after everything he has done. He didn't even tell me the things he had done to me which makes me uneasy about whether he was ever going to tell me at all.

If I had forgotten forever, he wouldn't have told me how he stabbed me. How he killed my first love in front of me. The things he would say to me and how he would grab me.

Before I can think it over, I get dressed, grab my knife and am on my way to his room.

Red is all I can see as I stalk down the corridors to his room. I am well aware that I look like a mad women running down the corridor with a knife in my hand. You know... maybe I am mad. Crazy, even. But... I have my reasons.

All I can hear is the slapping of my feet against the floor. Each footstep another thought, another memory. My brain is about to go into overdrive. My hand is clutching the wooden handle of the blade so tightly my knuckles have turned white.

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts.

Memories, memories. So many memories.

My head, the pain is so intense I am sure my body is soon going to give up on me. To give up completely and shut down. I wouldn't be surprised, I'd be happy if anything. I don't want to live like this. I'm not even living, I'm barely surviving.

It feels like I am trying to tread water but the current just keeps pushing me under. Further and further. I'm trying to swim to the surface, trying to break free. Trying to breathe. But no matter what, I can't swim. My legs won't move and my arms are bound to my sides.

I'm drowning in my own mind, trapped.

***

Before I am even somewhat aware of what I am doing, I'm barging through Colton's door, knife at the ready. His eyes go wide as soon as he sees me but then he quickly recovers. An emotionless expression replaces the shocked one he had not moments ago.

"What are you doing love?" Colton gets up from where he was sitting on his bed. The several pieces of paper surrounding him, shifting.

"You killed..." I trail off and he runs a hand over his face.

"You remember?" he asks and I nod slowly. God do I remember. How could I ever think about loving him? I am more disgusted by myself for ever thinking of him that way than I ever could be about the things he has done to me.

"I remember everything," I spit and he walks closer to me but I back away. "Get away from me," I breathe but he doesn't stop walking towards me until my back hits his closed door.

"I know... I know this looks bad but I-" he starts but I cut him off, not wanting to hear the bullcrap he is about to spout out.

"Looks bad?" I laugh, mocking him. "You didn't tell me anything about what you did to me... you painted yourself as the good guy when you are the epitome of the exact opposite," I can see the frustration pooling in his eyes but I continue. "You weren't going to tell me that you killed the person I loved," I whisper. The words not feeling real as they leave my mouth.

"He was going to kill you!" Colton shouts back. "Sorry for not letting him slit your throat... because that's clearly what you wanted," his hands are either side of my head, blocking me in.

"There was other options and you knew it, you knew you didn't have to kill him but you still did. Then you had the audacity to walk away whilst I had to watch him die in front of me!" I scream.

"The idea of another mans hands on your body... trying to hurt you... it fills me with more rage than I am able to express... he deserved it," he says so low and calmly that a shiver runs down my spine.

"You're sick," I spit as his hand clamps around the blade, prying it from my hands.

"Maybe I am... but it doesn't change the fact that no one is ever going to touch you again, other than me," he says as he trails the tip of the knife, lightly, down my neck and the curve of my breasts.

My breath hitches and I hate my body for betraying me. "You're messed up if you think that is how things are going to go," I counteract but his eyes flicker to my lips.

Just looking at him makes me feel sick and I am sure I must have had some type of head injury when I thought it was a good idea to sleep with him. Albeit he was an expert in bed but I don't know how I could have forgiven him for it all.

"Only for you love," he looks back into my eyes and I try to push against his chest but he grabs my wrists in his hand. "You know you want this... you can't deny it... I'm sure you remember how much you loved it last time," he whispers into my ear and I clench my thighs together.

"It... it was a mistake," I struggle to say as he pins my hands above my head with one hand and uses the other to follow the curves of my body.

"It wasn't much of a mistake at the time was it," his hand squeezes my hip.

No, no, no this is so wrong. I should push him away, cuss him out... do anything other than fall for his tricks.

"Manipulative prick," I spit.

I try to get my wrists out of his grip but he only tightens his hold. Colton latches his lips onto my neck and I use everything in me to not give him the satisfaction he wants.

He places the dagger onto the dresser beside us before saying "I don't even want to know what that was about," and placing both hands on my hips.

"I was hoping... to use it on you," my breathing becomes ragged as he pushes himself against me. The only thing separating us - clothing.

"Lucky I stopped you when I did then," he scoffs and I roll my eyes before pushing against his chest. I grab the knife, tucking it into my waistband and leave the room. I've had enough of him.

***

As soon as I am in the corridor he wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me. "You're not leaving that easily love," he smirks and I scowl at him.

"You'll find that you don't get to tell me what to do," I say and smack his hand away.

"This is not finished," his voice is low and husky, making me weak at the knees but I stand tall and don't let my weakness show.

"Oh it is," I say with more jurisdiction than I feel.

The humorous look leaves his face before he turns around and storms back into his room, slamming the door behind him.

That was the reaction I was going for but it hurts more than I'd ever admit.

I'm done with him, I can't love someone like him. Not that he'd ever reciprocate those feelings but after everything, I just don't see how I could forgive him.

I've had my moments of weakness but that's all they were. Weakness.

***

Colton

I'd finally gotten her back just to lose her again. This is not how I had expected things to go if she ever remembered. I'd figured she'd be pissed but not to the point where she'd cut me off completely. This isn't the end, it can't be.

She is it for me and if I can't have her then no one can.

I decide on taking a cold shower to take some of the edge off before going down to the training room. She needs space and I need to get my mind off of her.

My bare knuckles hit the punching bag with such force that I'm scared I am going to rip them open. I should have wrapped my hands but I enjoy the pain it gives me. The faint sting that encompasses my hands feels like an old friend.

With each punch, I sink further and further into the euphoria that comes with getting a release. A release for all of this pent up anger and frustration towards one woman.

The woman I would do anything for but I'd never admit that to her, or anyone for that fact.

My body is sleek with perspire as I continue my forceful blows to the punching bag. I am glad that no one really comes down here after hours. I don't have to worry about having to interact with half of the complete twats in this place.

I can't stand the day that I will have take over for my father, having to run this crap hole seems like complete and utter hell. If we ever get to that day, by the looks of things and the current situation with the rebels it doesn't seem to be going too well at the moment.

My punches instinctively get more forceful and my hands are begging for me to stop but the satisfaction is too much.

A sharpness runs up my left arm and I know that I've pushed it too far. I stop hitting the bag and stalk out of the dimly lit room.

I still feel the frustration and irritation as I march back to my bedroom.

It's more than just her body, it's her soul. The connection is more than just physical, I feel drawn to her and it scares me how much I want her. Need her.

I want to claim every bit of her as mine, not just her body but her heart. To let everyone know that she is mine and there's nothing they can do to change it.

My need for her runs so deep that I can't fathom what I am feeling, words couldn't possibly describe this sensation and want.

This desperation.

***

A/N 8k reads... wtf! Thank you so much <3