20 February 2020

Score: Bad Liar - Selena Gomez

Photo credit: https://pin.it/6gmuQ32

Mark

Fuck! These kids! I didn't mean for them to get this drunk! Lydia's wasted! I hope she's okay, though.

As we all rush after her into the bathroom, I can see her small body, crumpled on the ground next to the toilet, shaking as she heaves. Her face is streaked with tears from straining and her hair is spilling around her, threatening to fall into the bowl.

Gloria rushes to her, pulling her hair back and laughing her ass off.

Oh, God! I tried! I tried to prevent this by losing all those rounds and trying to take her last drink from her, but the truth is, she was probably drunk from round three onwards. Her body's just not used to it.

Damn, I had the idea to get the Baby Lord drunk and laugh at his expense, but I didn't think Lyds would get so pissed.

Well done, Mark! Well done!

"What are you looking at, pricks?" Gloria yells. "Get out! Show's over!"

Patrick quickly scurries out of the bathroom. I notice his complexion has turned greenish. Pussy, can't bear the sight of a little vomit. I hesitate for a bit, but then Gloria yells at me some more and I get out, as well.

"Are you OK?" The Baby Lord asks me, chucking the empty vodka bottle in the bin next to the dresser.

"Yeah, why?" I ask.

"Well, it was a lot of vodka!" Patrick says, clearing the glasses from the table. I bet the pussy's panicking that Gloria will call a parent to check on Lydia and he'll get in trouble, if they see the booze.

"You kids lack proper training." I shake my head. It's true. These kids can't hold a candle to my sixteen year old self, when it comes to drinking.

"Do you think Lydia's going to be OK?" Patrick asks me and I frown.

God, I hope so!

Just as I am about to say something smart in response, Gloria appears from the bathroom. Her sleeves ate rolled up and she is holding a towel.

"I'm going to Reception to ask for some Aspirin or Paracetamol." She says, her lips curled up in a wicked smile. She's enjoying this so fucking much! "And I'm gonna get her a coffee from the lobby. You, assholes, make yourselves useful and look after her, will you? And, you can order room service, some eggs and bacon should do. Something greasy to absorb the alcohol."

"I'm coming with you." The Baby Lord says, hearing Lydia gag from the bathroom. Fucking pussy!

"Fine." Gloria throws her hands in the air. "You" she points at me, shooting an eyebrow up. "Make sure she'a alive when we come back!"

And with that, Gloria and Patrick leave the room.

"Great!" I roll my eyes and edge towards the bathroom.

There's a creak in the door. Gloria probably didn't shut it closed behind her back, when she left. I push it further and step into the bathroom.

The first thing I notice, when I walk in, is Lydia's top, lying in the sink, covered in vomit.

Fucking. Hell. This means that...

I suck in a deep breath, my eyes gliding to the other side of the bathroom.

OK, I did not expect that!

Lydia is lying in the bathtub, topless, holding the bin from under the sink at her side. Gloria, I suppose, has thrown a hand towel over her and it's covering her chest and stomach. Her legs are bent at the knees and spread, each knee leaning against the sides of the bathtub. There are droplets of water, sliding down her bare thighs. Her head is thrown back over the edge of the tub, her eyes closed and her lips parted. Her hair is wet and braided, another creation of Gloria, I assume, and her arm, which is not hugging the bin, is draped over the edge of the bathtub.

I let out the breath I took in. Oh. My. God! What am I supposed to do with her? She's basically naked and barely conscious. Should I hold her head? Put on a wet towel over her forehead? Carry her to her bed?

I decide on option number one and walk towards her.

I kneel next to the bathtub, not caring about the wet floor.

"Lyds?" I whisper, stroking her forehead gently.

Don't look down! Don't look down! Don't look down! Damnit!

My eyes flutter to her almost naked body, contrary to my common sense.

Fucking hell!

The delicate slope of her throat, her slender shoulders, the curves of her collar bones... And the valley of her breasts, only hinted, with the towel covering her from her armpits down.

The familiar heat in my groin rises again. And it's not the only thing that's rising...

Fuck! Get it together, Mark! She's your friend and is blind drunk right now.

She turns her head towards me and mumbles something incoherent.

"Lyds, are you OK? Do you want some water, babes?"

Lydia slightly shakes her head. Her lips fall open a little wider.

Suddenly, I feel the urge to climb into the bathtub and hold her in my arms. She looks so small and fragile. Plus, it's my fault she's in this condition. How dumb am I, giving alcohol to 16 year old kids!

However, I don't do that. I simply reach for the tap, turn the cold water on, wet my hand and put it over her forehead. She mumbles something again, but relaxes completely.

"I'm here, baby. Just tell me if you need anything."

And then, Lydia's face scrunches into a painful grimace. Her chest rises and falls quickly, as her breathing becomes more rapid and shallow. A shiver passes through her whole body.

Oh, no...

She turns her head to the bin just in time. Her whole body shakes with convulsions, as she retches again.

I reach out and hold her by the shoulders, rubbing her skin and shushing soothingly.

When she's done, she relaxes her head against the bathtub again.

I stand up and walk back to the room, taking a water bottle from the mini bar. When I return to the bathroom, I'm faced with another issue.

The fucking towel's slid off her chest, baring her down to the waist.

Look away! Look away! Look away! Double damnit!

I sigh and walk to the bathtub, kneeling on the wet floor again.

Desperately trying not to stare, I tug at the edge of the towel and pull it over Lydia's chest again. She mumbles something and I turn to look at her face, my hand jerking slightly and brushing her skin. Lydia shudders slightly under my touch.

God, I wish I had gone with Gloria, instead of the Baby Lord...

Fuck, no!

Sudden possessiveness rises in my chest, lighting a fire of anger in its way, when I think about the Baby Lord seeing Lydia exposed like this. I'd rather cover her with my body and poke his eyes out.

I unscrew the cap of the water bottle and press it to her lips.

"Drink, Lyds." I say gently. "It's going to make you feel better."

She turns her head towards me and starts drinking.

God, she's beautiful! When did she get so grown-up and feminine? We're not children anymore, me, being eighteen and all, but it's like she's gone from an annoying, whining ten-year-old, to a grown-ass woman, boobs and all, in the blink of an eye. Her lips look so...juicy and I suddenly have the desire to lean down and cover them with mine...

Right. I am in desperate need to get laid! It's been a while. This is the only plausible explanation as to why I'm having these thoughts about Lydia right now. It's only natural, for a young lad like me, to have a physical reaction to a nearly-naked girl, lying in his arms.

Especially, when said girl has a stunning body and her skin is so, so smooth...

Suddenly, Lydia's eyes shoot open and she gasps.

"Patrick..." she moans.

What. The. Fuck!?

"Hey, Lyds! No, it's me, Mark." I smile weakly and stroke her hair gently, suppressing the anger in my belly. What is she calling Patrick for?!

"Mark?" She says, trying to focus. I can basically see the wheels turning in her head.

"Yes, baby, it's Mark."

"Where's Patrick?"

Fuck. Me.

"I don't know, Lyds. I'm here now." I say, unable to conceal my annoyance this time.

"Can you get me Patrick, please?" She mutters and my blood freezes. "I have to tell him I love him."

My mouth falls open and I suddenly don't remember how to breathe.

What did she just say?!

"What did you just say?"

"Get me Patrick, please..."

I don't want to listen anymore. I cover her mouth with my hand.

She's clearly drunk. She doesn't love Patrick! She doesn't even know what love means. I get that she's a hormonal teenager, who probably thinks she knows everything about being in love and shit, but she most definitely doesn't love him.

And, of all the boys in the world, she picks Patrick!? The fucking Baby Lord!?

Well, it's probably every girl's dream to be a Lady one day...

My chest tightens.

"Lyds" I say, squeezing the edge of the bathtub so hard, my knuckles turn white. "It's only you and me here, baby. Now, please, just relax, OK?"

"OK" she says, her eyes closing again.

I squeeze my jaw, trying to push the image of Patrick touching Lydia out of my head.

"Mark?" She suddenly calls.

"Yes, babes?"

"I'm cold."

Oh, fuck. It's no wonder she's cold, she's lying almost naked in the cold bathtub, her hair is wet and she's probably having the alcohol shivers.

I sigh and push up to my feet. I walk into the room again and rummage through my luggage, which is lying on the floor next to the door, and dig out a thick, black hoodie. I then return to the bathroom...

And, of course, the situation is getting worse by the minute!

Lydia's moved and she's kneeling in the middle of the tub, the towel now completely gone, her arms draped over the edge and her head hanging between them. And she's fucking crying.

I rush over to her and lift her chin up, so that she's facing me.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I'm sorry...", she sobs. "I'm so sorry..."

"Shhh, shhh, it's OK, baby...Everything's going to be fine..." I move my hand to gently massage her neck. "Let's get you to bed, OK?"

I climb into the bathtub, making a huge effort not to stare too much. I lift her arms up and, with her help, I pull the hoodie over her head and down her body. At least now, she's covered up!

I lift her up under her armpits and then scoot her into my arms, before getting out of the bath and carrying her to the bedroom. I lower her on one of the beds and smooth her hair out of her face. The moonlight, flooding through the window, falls on her face and her torso. She looks peaceful now. My hoodie is covering her mid-thigh. My heart warms up, as I watch her like this, and I kneel by the bed, stroking her hair.

"Patrick?" Her weak voice breaks the silence.

Oh, for fuck's sake!

"Yes, Lyds, I'm here, baby..."It's pointless to try and reason with her. I'll just play along for a while. It's dark, and she's so drunk, she wouldn't recognise her own mother right now. Plus, she won't remember any of this in the morning.

She smiles, but doesn't open her eyes.

"I knew you'd come." She says. "Gloria told me you fancy me, but, shhh, it's a secret." She laughs. "Is that true?"

I sigh, looking at her face, still stroking her hair. My heart skips a beat.

"Yes, baby, it's true..." I say, finally. And I realize, clear as day, that, this time, I'm not playing.

I'm a goner!

"I knew it!" She laughs again. "Gloria will be delighted."

"Shh, we'll talk tomorrow, baby." We most definitely won't. It's only a good thing she won't remember in the morning.

"I think I like you, too..." She says. "No, I actually love you!" She giggles. "I'm not sure, though...

"You're not sure?" She's fucking adorable!

"No. Never loved anyone before. Don't know what it feels like..."

My heart swells with emotion. I feel a lump, form in my throat. She's drifting off to sleep and I don't want to leave her side, but, at the same time, I want to run as far away as possible, as fast as I can.

"You know how we find out?" She says, suddenly. "You have to kiss me."

A snort escapes my throat. What is she talking about?

"That's the only way I'll know if I love you."

"I'm not kissing you!" I snap, yanking my hand away from her face.

"C'm ooonn", she whines. "I have to know..."

"Lydia, I'm not doing it!"

"Pleeeaasee..."

Oh, God! How am I to refuse her anything, when she's begging me like that. Plus, I admit to myself, I really want to kiss her, too. But not like this. Not when she's drunk and she thinks I'm someone else. I want her to remember kissing me. I want her to know it's me. And I want her to not want anybody else.

Suddenly, a sob shakes her body. Is she crying again? She grabs my hand in the dark.

"Please, kiss me...", she begs again.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

Jesus! How did I end up in this situation?

I take a deep breath and lower my face over hers. She doesn't open her eyes, but inhales a deep breath, sensing me hovering above her. Her lips are just a couple of inches from mine...

Fuck it!

I close my eyes and cover her lips with mine.

Oh, my God!

It is an innocent kiss, our lips barely touching, but I feel electricity running down my body. I pause for a moment and then I lift myself up, breaking the spell that has befallen me.

My mind is racing, my blood is boiling, but my body is suddenly freezing.

What the hell just happened? How did I end up kissing Lydia, pretending to be Patrick?! I don't know what's going on anymore...

What I do know, though, is that I want more.

I want to dive right back in, taste her mouth and claim her as fucking mine. I want to devour her.

But I know I can't do this.

I look down at her. She's smiling, her eyes still closed.

"Mmm...", she murmurs, "I know now."

"You know what, baby?"

"I know that I love you..."

And with that, she turns around and finally falls asleep and I am left there, in the dark, completely stunned and having no idea how I got into this mess.