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.
I ignored the next ringing of the doorbell. It was probably Alex coming back. He's going to apologize for his behavior. I don't want to hear it. It's disgusting.
“Marina, I brought your bag.”
When I heard his voice, I was at the door in a second. When I opened it, I made sure that I hadn't imagined his voice. Andrew suddenly smiled and demonstrated the "loss". My smile was a little unsure. Just a minute ago I thought I would never see him, and here he was, handsome, in a long open coat, beige turtleneck, and unshaven.
"I'll come in," he didn't ask, just warned me of his actions.
I didn't even have time to sidle up. Wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him, he stepped inside.
“It was the first time I'd ever seen a girl run away from me.”
Here I didn't know whether to be proud or angry at the mention of past passions. Andrew let go of me and threw off his coat. I was a little surprised: he was going to stay!
"Why
