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“Take off your shoes!” He said, throwing me down on the couch.
He had a couch in the hallway! And the room itself wasn't much smaller than my bedroom! "A" went into the room and, talking to someone, came back out. With the words "hurry up," addressed to the person on the phone, he handed me a half-filled glass.
“Hera will be here now; true, he is a plastic surgeon, but I'm sure he'll be able to fix your leg. You drink, it's whiskey. Go on, chug it! It's good for calming the nerves.”
I basically agreed, I read that it helps, but I haven't tried it myself. I exhaled and drank all the contents, as advised, in one gulp. The whiskey collapsed into my stomach, and a warm wave traveled through my body. I felt dizzy. He kept saying something, but I couldn't make sense of it, as if I was in a cotton cocoon. I heard everything, but for some reason I couldn't react.
“Andrew, where are you injured?” came from the entrance.
"So that's his name," I thought distantly.
“Yes, here, sitting. Eyes in a bunch. Hey!”
He waved his hand in front of my nose. Somehow I didn't care. Another man appeared in front of me, and he looked into my eyes, looked at my hands, and turned to Andrew:
"What did you do to her?"
He held up a whiskey glass. The doctor rolled his eyes and sighed.
"You better be careful. I don't want alcohol intoxication, with her chicken weight. I don't recognize you, first you hit a girl with your car, and then poison her.”
I agreed with him, but I couldn't answer. An attempted nod resulted in me falling on my side.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" exclaimed the doctor, catching me. "Let's take her to the room."
Andrew unbuttoned my coat and, while his friend held me, took it off. Then he threw off my boots and picked me up in his arms and carried me somewhere. I couldn't fight his self-rule; all my strength was thrown into keeping awake.
I was consciously aware that my injured leg was being felt.
“Here needed bandages and ointment, and also take off stockings. I'll get what you need.”
The offer of one of the men to take something off made me come to my senses a little. I tried to crawl away from him, but it didn't work: his hand slowly crept upward, tugging at the hem. I gathered my will into a fist and pushed him away.
" That's what we're reacting to! " Andrew snorted. " I've never been able to take off stockings…
***
When I woke up, for the first time I couldn't figure out what had woken me up, or rather, which of my feelings was the primary one. My leg hurt, and the best thing to do would have been to take a painkiller. I was also thirsty and needed to use the bathroom. As I stood up, I realized something was wrong. There should have been a wall next to the couch, leading to the door even in the dark. And why hadn't I turned on the nightlight?
Limping, I walked across the room and tripped over to the curtains. It turned out that their thickness plunged the room into complete darkness. Outside the window was not an ordinary courtyard at all, but all of Moscow in the palm of my hand! I instantly realized that all the horror was not a dream, but a reality!
Forgetting all my desires, I headed towards the exit. I wondered where I had lost my bag. There should have been a cell phone in it. Maybe Alex called. I didn't want to talk to him, but it would be nice to look at the "missed" one: after all, it's not easy to fall out of love with a person and forget him.
“Awake?”
Andrew met me immediately as I left the room. He was wearing casual pants and a T-shirt and looked great. But can only imagine how I looked!
“Can I use the restroom?” I asked cautiously.
"And calmed down at the same time. Sure, come on in."
"Where's my bag?" I ventured to ask.
Andrew looked around in confusion, obviously trying to remember if he'd seen it. I exhaled dolefully and went into the bathroom. Today isn't my day: I lost my boyfriend, lost my bag, and in it, by the way, my documents! I can envision the challenge now! I'll have to run to the police, pay a fine, sign up at the MFC and manage to get there. And also SNILS, policy, travel card, cards! The telephone is gone too! And to top it all off, I looked like an avant-garde painting! Mascara managed to smudge, and in some places even mixed with lipstick.
I washed my face, took off the other stocking and threw it in the trash. The best thing for me to do now was to go home. But how? The money's in my bag, but it's nowhere to be found. There was some change in my coat pocket, though. It should be enough for the subway. If only it worked! I need to ask the landlord the address of his apartment and how far it is from the subway. Having made up my mind, I went to look for him. Or rather, to the sounds.
I found Andrew in the kitchen. Listening to a muffled jazz tune, he was cutting something.
"What time is it?" I asked him.
"Two in the morning," he answered, pointing behind me.
I turned around and saw the clock on the wall. I sat down on a high chair, right in front of Andrew.
"You're prettier without makeup," he said.
"Yeah, I saw myself in the mirror before I washed my face."
“I saw you before the smeared makeup. Sorry, but I couldn't find your bag.”
Compliment, though! That's very supportive!
“I want to go home. I just don't know the address.”
I was going to say I'd call a cab, but then I remembered my phone. Although there's some change in my coat pocket, it should be enough for the subway.
"Stay until morning, I'll drive you myself."
"I can't now, I've had a few drinks and I can't drive."
"Can I stay until morning?" I sneered.
"You can stay until the next night," I was graciously allowed.
I hummed, showing my attitude towards what was happening.
Diana broke off the engagement. Her father is my father's partner. I was asked to rid the girl of an alfonso…" At this point I burst out, clenching my fists in anger, and he continued, ignoring my indignation: "Before that, Alex was courting the chief accountant. She is a prominent woman, but more than ten years older than him.
"I'm glad you're happy with what happened," I said.
"Don't be angry, just think how fortunate everything turned out for you. Eat."
Andrew put a plate of meat, cheese, and vegetables in front of me and added a glass of wine to it. I looked at him suspiciously: what else he had mixed in....
“Drink calmly. With whiskey, it really turned out stupid. Hera told me that you already have nervous stress, and here you have a whiskey. Now you’ve slept, calmed down a little, but it’s still better to eat first.”
Almost without taste, I ate a couple of slices of meat and a tomato. It was strange: Andrew and I were seeing each other for the first time, and he didn't mind me staying the night.
"I'd better sleep a little longer," I decided.
I didn't really want to sleep, but my leg was aching. I decided it would be better if I lay down and distracted myself, hoping to find a book or magazine in the room. Judging by the bandage, I had a sprain, but it would take a couple of days.
"I'll help," Andrew decided. – "Don't argue. If you don't feel sorry for yourself today, tomorrow you won't be able to walk at all."
He was right, and I let myself be picked up in his arms. The room was also dark. I didn't know where to turn on the light, and Andrew just hadn't seen fit to do so. Darkness, a bedroom, and a man – the combination made me a little uncomfortable, and I hastily tried to move away from him, leaning on my sore leg. I staggered; Andrew picked me up and pulled me against him. His breath traveled down my neck, and my legs weakened for another reason.
The lock on my dress moved, and a trail of light kisses traveled down my back. The dress fell to my feet, followed by my bra. Principles and moral attitudes also scattered to the corners of my consciousness and lurked so that I couldn't find them. The world shook, changing our position in space. The weight of a man's body added to the kisses. He pulled me under his thighs and pulled me to him, pressing me against his groin.
Consciousness made one last attempt to stop it. To order the barely familiar man to stop. But the first push put an end to extraneous thoughts. His hands, his lips seemed to have time everywhere, the movements becoming sharper, faster, more passionate. All that was left to do was claw at the sheet, scream, and then try to breathe.
Reality ceased to be clear, lost color, feeling, and contours, and even blacked out for a while.
While I was trying to catch my breath, get my thoughts in order, and not burn with shame, Andrew kissed my shoulder, got up, and walked out. Wrapping myself in the blanket, I jumped up. For some reason, I couldn't find any of my things, not even my dress. I couldn't run out of the apartment in a blanket!
"A shower will do us good," Andrew informed me.
I shuddered and tried to hold onto the blanket that was crawling away. Andrew was slowly but surely getting rid of it. It was too late to say anything about shame, and even more so to educate him about the fact that we didn't know each other very well.
"What shower? I have a bandage," I mumbled
From the context, I realized that Andrew was planning to shower together. I was right. Scooping me up in his arms, he carried me into the bathroom and sat me down on the pouf, then, unwrapping the bandage, imprinted a few kisses on my knees.
"Looks like this isn't going to be just a shower," I realized.
"What are you doing?
It was the stupidest question I could think of, but I asked it anyway. I wanted some way to show that I wasn't a willful puppet. But the result wasn't very good.
“What am I doing? Oh, what I'm doing today, and what I'll be doing tomorrow...."
That sounded promising. I was confused. He pulled me to him and kissed me. The thought, "What am I doing?!" flashed at the edge of my consciousness, but I quickly pushed it away. Myself. Could I ever lose my head for once in my life? Finally putting all doubts aside, I responded to the kiss. Andrew pulled me off the floor and stepped under the jets of water. I shrieked in surprise and instinctively wrapped my legs around his hips.
“Good girl," he murmured.
I snorted and kissed him myself, wrapping my arms around his neck. The water was warm, but it felt icy against his skin.
"We were going to take a shower, weren't we?" I asked.
I wriggled out of his arms and grabbed a washcloth and shower gel. I needed to cool down a little. Every time he touched my skin, it seemed to burn. Andrew took the washcloth, ran it over my back and chest, and thinking the washing was over, threw it on the floor. He picked me up and pushed my back against the wall.
"We're going to fall here," I whispered.
Andrew grinned and pushed forward. I exhaled and arched my back in surprise, clutching at his shoulders. The world split into before and after. Finally, lost, I bit his shoulder. Andrew growled, and his movements became stronger and sharper. I dug even harder into the skin on his back, leaving deep nail marks. Andrew exhaled and bit my earlobe.
We didn't fall to the floor after all. Andrew slowly sank to his knees, letting me go.
" Well, now we're washed! " I said.
Andrew laughed and pecked me on the temple. I moved sluggishly, my strength gone. I hope he's taking me to bed.
2 Chapter
It was a great escape. I had never felt more ashamed than I did that morning. I struggled to free myself from Andrew's embrace, gathered my clothes, and, dressing on the fly, jumped out of the apartment. Now I didn't even understand what came over me! Probably, my resentment toward my lover, alcohol, and the remnants of pride played their part. Nothing raises self-esteem as much as the opportunity to feel desirable!
Providence decided to take pity on me: I had change from the grocery store in my coat pocket, and I managed to catch a cab almost immediately. My leg didn't go away, only swelled more. Not all of my underwear had been collected, some of it had been left in enemy territory, and my stockings had disappeared even earlier, so I felt as if I'd jumped out into the street without clothes.
The driver was looking at me in the rearview mirror, and I thought he had figured it all out. For a teacher, publicity is the worst. For some reason, teachers are supposed to keep their reputations like a virgin in the Middle Ages.
It was good that I had put my keys, which I had taken from Alex while running away from the restaurant, in my coat pocket. I hadn't thought about losing mine. I flew to the third floor, made sure that Alex wasn't waiting for me in the entrance, and entered the apartment.
The first thing I did was go to the bathroom, wash my face, and scrutinize the scattering of hickies on my neck. I'd have to hide them with a scarf, I couldn't blame it on the curling iron. And, having changed into a cozy sport suit, I went to the kitchen to drink coffee. It would also be nice to go to the drugstore or even ask my neighbor to do it.
No sooner had I settled down at the table, putting my injured leg on a neighboring stool, than the doorbell rang. Sighing, I hurried down the hallway, feeling a sense of unease. And it was justified! In the stairwell stood Alex, disheveled. He held his jacket in his hands.
The unfortunate thing is that if you pay attention, you can see a shadow on the other side of the peephole. Of course, Alex noticed me and angrily kicked the door.
“Marina, open up, we need to talk.”
“We?!” I was theatrically surprised. “It seems to me that we have nothing to discuss.”
"Marina! Open up!"
"I won't!" I responded.
The fact that he had come to reconcile was nice, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I really didn't want him to leave. But at the same time, I knew it was the end of the relationship. It would be better if I put an end to it myself.
“But where would I go? What did I do?!”
I even looked through the peephole to make sure my senses were right: he really didn't understand what he'd done. Apparently, it's normal for him to have relationships with more than one woman at a time.
“Fuck you…!!!!” – I shouted.
“Who needs you, you gray mouse?! You should be thanking me for everything!”
I couldn't believe my ears! I never thought I'd hear Alex say that. I thought we were going to part quietly… well, as quietly as possible. He'd find out I wasn't going to forgive him, take his things and leave.
“Well, then I won't take up your time. Go to the one you appreciate.”
Not listening to his scolding, I headed back to the kitchen, and on the way I turned on the TV and turned up the music channel. It partially blocked out the screaming from the stairwell, and at the same time showed that I wasn't listening to my ex-housemate's cries.
Trying to abstract myself from the situation, I decided to think about something else. My memory immediately brought up some particularly vivid scenes from last night. I had to give a natural shake of my head to stop thinking about it. It would be better for me to forget the adventure.
Turning off the TV, I sat down on the couch and cried. I'd been wanting to since last night. They say that tears release all negative energy, so the best remedy for a broken heart is tears. But I don't know why my thoughts were occupied not by Alex, but by Andrew. I couldn't fall in love on the spot, could I?! Or could I? Why did I run away?
No, I did the right thing. Why would he want me? Is he just having fun? Taking advantage? What?
Completely confused, I covered myself with a blanket. I have to go to the clinic tomorrow and get a note. I just can't do six classes. I can't stand.
