Night with West - II

“In your sleep?” Tears fill my eyes

“West Please! For the love of God seek some help!” I beg to him in desperation.

“Don’t start again.” He says and starts browsing his phone again. His breathing quickens and I know he is angry again.

Angry at me for bringing up this topic. Reminding him of what had happened. I turn my face away from him and try to control myself.

He says he is not weak, and he doesn’t need help. The truth is, he doesn’t trust the system anymore. He had told me once that he was removed from his father’s custody when he was 12 but he ended up with him again within a year. Things only worsen after that.

Tears stream down my cheeks, and I pinch myself hard to stifle my sob.

He says he will leave this house at the first chance he gets. Getting into some good college and scoring a scholarship is his only hope. But I get scared every time he doesn’t respond to my calls or messages. Every time he misses school or comes in late. It makes me worry about his safety.

“I have faced these things for my whole childhood, Nat. Two more years wouldn’t do anything to me.” He had told me once. “It isn’t like he beats me every day or something. It’s only sometimes he loses control. To be honest, I love to agitate him… and now that I have grown up, he is afraid of me too.” He had told me so casually. As if discussing something as very normal.

I have met his father a few times before we started seeing each other intimately. He wasn’t friendly, but still one could never guess he put West through hell at home. I have known West for years but never noticed any bruises on him. Nobody knows West’s own house isn’t a safe place for him. His father is calculative. Usually, the bruises fade away by the time he joins the school after the weekend.

I try hard, but a sob escapes my mouth.

He grabs my arm and tugs me to see my face. My face is smeared with tears and I see fury in his eyes.

“God, Natalie!” West says in disgust, “You know I don’t like you crying and you know I don’t want your pity!”

I bite my lip hard to draw blood from it.

“Why would you even meet me if you can’t handle this?” He says with so much loathing in his voice it makes me cry harder.

Living with an abusive father and bearing hardship for so long has made him callous. Sometimes he doesn’t even notice how his words can hurt me. I rush to the bathroom before another sob can come out of my mouth. It was stupid of me to cry in front of him. I know it makes him feel worse.

Why doesn’t he understand we are still so young?

He doesn’t have to bear all this abuse in silence. But he says he doesn’t like nobody’s concern.

Sometimes I feel he loathes me too. I hate him for this…

I wipe my tears and take a deep breath to calm myself down. I feel for him. I do care for him. But I don’t like it when he snaps at me after making love. It makes me feel used. As if I could give him everything and still it wouldn’t be enough.

After a while West opens the door and says, “Come to bed…”

“So you could fuck me, then shut me out again?” I ask with indifference. Truth is my heart is aching with pain. I am not sure if I am feeling this pain for his situation, or I am just upset at the way he snapped at me.

He sighs. ”Nat…”

He takes a step towards me, trying to touch my arm, but I shrug him off. He stands there for a while, then says, “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t told you anything. You worry too much… and you know how I feel about it...”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s my fault.”

My fault that I care and want him to do something about this fucked up situation…

I try to brush past him, but he grabs and pushes me against the wall while caging me with his arms. He cups my cheek in his palm and says, tracing my lips with his thumb, “Sometimes I wish I could have a fresh start…”

I blink at him to understand what he is trying to say.

He studies in my face for a moment, brings his face near mine to kiss. “I am sorry,” he murmurs against my lips and, like a fucking whore, I melt again. He kisses, pressing his body into me.

Why does he have so much control over my body? I hate him and I hate myself for this.

I let out a moan without meaning to. When he slips his hand in my panties, my heartbeat quickens and a shiver runs down my thighs. I try to resist him. I am soaking wet and I don’t want him to know.

I swear to God I feel his smirk across my lips. If he wasn’t pressed onto me. I would have kneed him. I try to pull away from the kiss, but he pins me hard.

He runs his thick digits across my slit while rubbing my clit with his thumb. I cannot help but shamelessly give in. When I rub my core to relieve myself on his hand. He pulls away from the kiss and says, “Ride it, Nat… Do it…”

He pushes two fingers inside. I squeeze my legs and squirm while he finger-fucks me. I try to match his rhythm to soothe the ache that has built up inside me. He takes a hard bite of my breasts above my clothes. I moan in pain and pleasure.

“Just keep going…” I say breathlessly and he fastens his pumps and my pussy starts clenching around his fingers. Soon enough, I shudder and go limp in his arms. He hugs me for a while, then he picks me up in his arms and takes me towards his room.

I look at his beautiful face, wondering how I even fall for this boy and why he is being gentle right now.

He puts me down on his bed, then removes my clothes one by one. He leaves me a trail of kisses. I am high in the thrill and passion of love he is showing. It’s rare for him to do this for me.

“I need you West.” I admit to him. I want his love. The one I feel for him. I know it’s fucked up, but I cannot help it. I need something or anything he can give me.

He gives me one deep, long smooch before pulling his cock out. He rubs it to my slits and I shiver. Then he fucks me, and he fucks me hard. But still, this time it’s somehow different. It feels like making love. Slow and passionate. Then he surprises me by pulling in for a hug. He holds me for long and we fall asleep again.

….

When I open my eyes in the morning, I notice him gazing at me. I smile and blush. I must look like a mess. I hate it when he points it out. But I cannot look my best, first thing in the morning.

“I will miss you,” He says instead.

What?

I frown. “Where are you going?”

He doesn’t answer at first, then he says, “I am going away for two weeks during summer break.”

Summer break starts after a week.

“Oh…”

I look at his face again. Bruising has completely faded on one side of his face and is slightly visible on another. By Monday, it will be gone. He didn’t hold back last night. Second time when we fucked, it felt like he was trying to comfort me. He removed his shirt. Showed his scars. Most of them have faded. Luckily, there aren’t any new bruises. I was just overthinking.

He sits up in bed and pulls me towards himself and says, “Come here. I want to capture this moment.”

I shake my head in horror. “Noo West, I look terrible.”

“You look beautiful… Come here.”

I blink and sit beside him.

We take many pictures. Nothing obscene but happiness on our faces and our bare shoulders tell the whole story.