Over Again (18+)

Camille's relationship with Harry was perfect until she was torn and cheated. Things got worse after Harry found out and troubles came over. Before everything has fixed, another troubles came again and broke hearts into pieces. Trust was broken, friendship was betrayed. Could Camille make everything straight and start this over again?

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45. Marked

LEIGH'S POV

It had been three months since Eleanor was sentenced and I hadn't heard anything from Eleanor and Taylor Swift. Well, the media kept talking and posting stuffs about it constantly. It seemed like the news about Taylor Swift, The Wanted, and Eleanor Calder being criminals and villains would never get old and people kept talking about it. But there was no new thing about them. It was like they had gone and disappeared from our lives, away from all of us. It wasn't that I was complaining though. Of course it was a good thing. We finally could live peacefully without terror and threats.

My relationship with Harry was really perfect. We were head over heels in love with each other, and I was really happy with him. Most of the fans had started to accept and ship us together, but there were still some who were strongly against the fact of me and Harry being together. I got loads of hate on Twitter, and Harry didn't allow me to go on Twitter on the first month we started dating. Most of the haters were Hamille Shippers - or what they were called - who still wanted Camille and Harry to be together.

Speaking of Camille, she had broken up with Louis over two months ago and I still felt bad about it. I couldn't stop blaming myself, because I indirectly caused it. If I hadn't been so blunt by assuming Camille was pregnant, they would had been together until then. The blame was on me. I should had thought before speak. Harry told me to stop blaming myself but the guilty feelings haunted me down every time the thoughts of Camille and Louis split up crossed my mind. I had apologized to Camille countless times and she had always forgiven. She had told me that she had gotten over Louis but I still felt really terrible about it.

A squeeze on my knee broke my train of thoughts. I turned my head to the left side and saw Harry gave me a small smile. I returned the smile lazily and sighed.

"What are you thinking?" Harry inquired in his typical deep voice. He rested a hand on my knee and the other hand gripped the steering wheel as he drove in medium speed.

"Nothing," I shrugged. Harry gave me an unconvinced look, so I told him, "it's just.. about Camille and Louis."

"Stop blaming yourself. You - shit!" Harry cursed as a girl crossed the road right in front of the car we were in, almost getting hit. Fortunately Harry hit the brake just in time so the poor girl was safe. I was really surprised, but relived that we didn't cause any accident.

"Phew, that was close," I sighed. My heart was beating fast.

"Stupid girl, crossing the road recklessly," Harry murmured, removed his hand from my knee and placed it on the steering wheel.

"Concentrate on your driving," I said and he just nodded.

The rest of the car ride remained silent, only the music from the radio that was heard. I decided not to think about Camille and Louis. I watched the vehicles on the other side of the road moved in opposite direction, passed us by. The road was quite slippery since it had been raining since this morning. The rain was pouring lightly and knowing this, I had no doubt the rain wouldn't stop anytime soon. Well, it was the typical London weather around this month.

Let Her Go by Passenger was played lightly from the radio and I hummed along the song. I really loved this song, the lyric was totally meaningful even though it didn't relate to my feelings at the moment.

"We're here," Harry's voice stopped my humming and the car came to a stop. We arrived at our destination, Stamford Bridge Stadium. We were going to watch a match between Chelsea FC and West Ham.

I clapped my hands in excitement then adjusted my Chelsea jersey before hopped off the vehicle. Harry had his jacket over both of our heads to shelter us from the rain. I was practically shoved under his armpit but it was cute though, the way he kept me from soaking wet. We entered the stadium that was filled with at least thirty thousands people.

The match wasn't a big one. West Ham wasn't a strong club, compared to Chelsea. I was one hundred percent sure that Frank Lampard and his team mates would beat West Ham easily. Nevertheless, I was really excited, because I hadn't seen a live football match in ages. The last time I watched football live from the stadium was last year, in Barcelona. It was el clasico; a duel between FC Barcelona and Real Madrid CF.

The stadium whose capacity was 41,837 people seemed crowded. Especially at the ticket locket, the line was really long. Fortunately Harry had bought the ticket online, so we just walked straight through the entrance door to our seats.

Luckily we were in VIP section that had roof above our head, so we didn't get soaked by the rain. I remembered watching football match with Josh back in Leicester. That time we sat in lower class section and it rained. We ended up soaking wet.

A few minutes later, the referee blew the whistle, indicated that the match had started. Since the first minutes, Chelsea emerged dominant and vibrant. The players ripped West Ham's defense ferociously, showered them with shoots on goal.

I was absorbed into the match. My eyes couldn't leave the ball for a second. The round spinning ball was then dribbled steadily by Demba Ba. He was running on the left side of the field, near the penalty area. A player from West Ham ran approaching him, then tackled him so Demba lost the ball and ended up falling headfirst on the ground.

"Foul!" I shouted angrily. "Bloody hell! It's a fucking violation! Do something, you idiotic referee!" I yelled, standing up from my seat.

"Calm down babe," Harry cooed, gripped my wrist gently and tugged me to my seat. "The referee won't hear you," he chuckled.

Notwithstanding, the referee blew the whistle. He pointed at West Ham's defender who tackled Demba, then lifted a yellow card.

"Yellow card for Elliot Lee from West Ham," the commentator said.

"Fuck yeah!" I squealed happily. Harry just shook his head and laughed at my reaction. Well, I knew I was really emotional and agog when it came to football.

A violation by West Ham in the spot outside penalty area meant that a free kick for Chelsea. West Ham players were on defensive mode; some of the players made a posse to block the ball from the goal. Frank Lampard was the executor for this free kick. He was getting ready to take the free kick.

As the referee blew the whistle, Lampard kicked the ball, gave enough force to the ball so it moved in parabolic motion towards the goal. The ball flew above the posse, made it almost impossible for West Ham players to block it.

I stood up, my mouth was hanging open and my heart was beating fast. I crossed my fingers, expected the ball to land inside the goal. But even though the ball had gone through the posse, Stephen Henderson who was the goalkeeper could block the ball using his hands.

I let out a sigh in disappointment, and huffed in annoyance. I thought nothing could stop the ball from entering the goal.

After being blocked by the goalkeeper's hand, the ball bounced away from the goal, drifted towards where Fernando Torres stood. Torres jumped and headed the ball. It happened so quickly, I couldn't even process the scene on the field. But after the ball made contact with Torres' head, it launched towards the left side of the goal. Stephen who was still standing on the right side of the goal couldn't block it, so the ball was trawled perfectly inside the goal.

"Goal!" I squealed jovially. "Torres scored! Goal!" I screamed, and hugged Harry's frame tightly. "It's a goal, baby!" I exclaimed, bouncing in happiness.

"Brilliant!" Harry commented and kissed my cheek. "Torres did a great job."

"I know right!" I replied jauntily. "That's my Torres," I remarked playfully.

"Your Torres?" Harry inquired, raised an eyebrow at me. I averted my gaze from the field to look at him.

"Yeah," I grinned and craned my tongue out at him.

"No babe. I'm yours," Harry stated in stern voice. He was trying to look strict and serious, but failed miserably because his dimples betrayed him.

"But Torres is my one and only," I teased, wiggling my eyebrows then turned my attention back to the game.

"No, I'm your one and only," he muttered, then without any warning he suddenly grabbed my face by putting both of his hands on the side of my face, forced me to face him. Then he kissed me roughly, his lips moved in rugged way against my lips. It sent me shivers down my spine, and chilling sensation at his possessiveness.

The kiss was hot, it wasn't long but it surely meant a lot. It was passionate and lustful. But I felt like something was missing in my heart. Like a puzzle with a missing piece, and I had no idea where the piece was.

"You're only mine," Harry whispered. His green eyes were staring intensely into mine, his pupils were dilated. I didn't know what to respond, so I gave him a peck on the lips then poured all my attention back to the match.

That night, Chelsea were like lions. They attacked West Ham fiercely with no mercy, like predators that were tearing their poor preys apart. West Ham players were struggled big time. Their defense was really weak, Chelsea strikers could penetrate through it easily.

Goals by goals were scored, and by the end of the match, Chelsea won by 5 goals with no ballast. Those goals were scored by Torres twice, Eden Hazard, Oscar, and Frank Lampard.

"What a match! We won big time!" I exclaimed gleefully as I stood up from my seat, about to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" Harry put a hand on my waist and pulled me down.

"Um, going home?"

"Not so fast babe," he said, bum still planted on the seat. "Wait a little while," he said.

The rain was still pouring so lightly so I assumed that Harry wanted us to wait until it stops. I decided to play with Harry's phone and did a follow spree on his Twitter account. It always made me smile seeing the fans' reaction when they got followed by Harry's account.

The rain had stopped but he didn't move from his seat. He was playing with my phone, hacking my Twitter. He tweeted random funny stuffs and tweeted to some people.

"Follow me," he finally ordered after an hour of just sitting there and I rolled my eyes as he pulled me into standing position.

"You're weird," I commented as I followed him hot in the trail. He didn't lead me to the main exit so I had no idea where we were going. "The rain stopped fifteen minutes ago and we haven't left. Now you ask me to follow you."

"You're so cute," he replied cheekily.

"Now you're even weirder."

"Taking that as a compliment."

"Whatever, Styles," I rolled my eyes. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Just follow me," he smiled mischievously. We were in a hallway inside the stadium. Harry stopped to talk with a man; I didn't know what they were talking about because I wasn't paying attention.

After he had done talking, he then took my hand then leaded me to another hallway. The hallway connected us to the field.

"You took me here!" I exclaimed in excitement. It was the first time I stepped my feet on the football field of Stamford Bridge.

"Are you happy, so far?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"I'm so happy!" I answered, and looked around me. "Woah!"

I could see the supporters' seats, it was practically empty. The ground was still wet because of the rain. I walked over to the goal, and touched the pole. Harry and I took some photos together in this place.

"Fernando Torres stepped here," I said, my eyes were wide in excitement.

"I have another surprise," Harry said, with shit-eating grin that made his dimples peeked from his cheeks. His green eyes were sparkling and filled with love. He was so freaking adorable, beyond perfection. God did very great job making this perfect human being.

It took a moment for me to realize that I was staring.

"Hello, earth to Leigh," Harry waved his hand in front of my face. I was startled and smacked back into reality.

I was one hundred percent sure I looked like an idiot.

"W-what?" I gaped. What did I miss? The last thing I heard before I drifted off was that Harry had another surprise.

"Surprise!" Harry exclaimed, and there again his adorable ear-splitting grin.

I titled my head in confusion. I was too far zoned out hence I didn't realize who was standing next to Harry.

Oh my God! Holy shit, was I seeing things? Was it even real?

Less than teen feet in front of me there stood none other than the perfect-looking Fernando Jose Torres Sanz aka sex god. My jaw dropped and my heart skipped a beat.

I completely forgot what it felt like to breath.

"Hi," Fernando smiled at me.

Wait, what? Fernando Torres just said hi to me. He fucking talked to me. Was I dreaming?

Don't embarrass yourself and greet him back, Leigh.

"Uh..hi," I squeaked. My voice came out like a dying cat and it was embarrassing. "Oh God," I muttered under my breath.

"It's good to see you," Fernando said in his Spanish accent. Bloody hell, he looked very sexy in thin white tee shirt and jeans. His face was flawless, his perfect shaped lips were so inviting that I was holding myself from planting my lips on them. His hair was drenched with sweat and rain. His pretty brown eyes were staring at me, they were mesmerizing. It was like I was dreaming with eyes open. "What's your name?" Fernando asked, since I was just staring at him in admiration without any words escaped my parted mouth.

Was I drooling?

"I-I'm Leigh," I answered. I bit my bottom lip nervously, and played with the hem of my jersey.

"That was a great match, Nando," Harry said, saved us from the awkwardness that was about to fill the atmosphere.

"Thanks," Fernando said humbly and smiled genuinely. Holy crap, this guy was beyond perfect. He wasn't even cocky despite the tons of compliments and eulogies thrown to him.

"You were absolutely incredible, totally awesome!" I pipped in. There was a tiny bit of confidence in me. Just a tiny bit.

"She was fascinated by your amazing skill. You don't know how she screamed while watching you play," Harry said. "You really made her scream like that," he added, a glint of mischief in his eyes. At the moment, I really wanted to smack him.

"Shut up Harry," I warned him in low threatening voice. Then I turned to Fernando and said, "I was blown away but I didn't scream like that."

"Like what?" Fernando inquired, cocked his eyebrow. There was a playful glint in his eyes.

Before I could reply, Harry beat me to it, "she screamed like she was in a great orgasm."

"Harry!" I punched his arm. I could feel my face heated up. "No, it wasn't like that," I protested.

"It was," Harry said stubbornly. "You never screamed loudly like that when we were in bed," he rambled. His eyes were wide adorably in mischief. He looked cute, like a little kid but that time I really wanted to rip his balls off and hang them on top of the Big Ben.

"Holy shit Harry!" That was the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened in my life. "He's exaggerating," I told Fernando who was then laughing.

Holy fuck, he was extremely hot when he laughed.

"Oh wow," Fernando giggled along with Harry.

"Oh babe, you should've seen yourself right now. Your face is so red like a tomato!" Harry said between laughter.

"Stop laughing you fuck," I huffed. I swore Harry would get my revenge for embarrassing me in front of my idol.

"Oh sorry," Fernando tried to stop laughing.

"No," I quickly said. "No, I meant it to Harry," I corrected.

"You're silly," Fernando chuckled. I blushed furiously.

"So," I trailed off, bit my bottom lip slightly. "Can I take a picture with you?"

"Sure," Fernando nodded. He stepped aside and motioned me to stand next to him. As we stood side by side, Fernando wrapped his arms around my waist, made my heart beat twice faster than its normal rate. I couldn't believe I was this close to my idol.

Harry pulled his phone out of his pocket and immortalized the moment into his phone. He snapped a few pictures of me and my idol. Then he asked a worker there to take a picture of three of us.

After taking some pictures and talking, Fernando excused himself because he was called by Jose Mourinho, his coach. Harry and I then left the stadium and went home.

My dream had come true. My lifetime goal had been completed. I could die in peace then. I was really happy. I couldn't ask for anything more, except marrying him which was clearly impossible since he had had a wife and two children.

We arrived at my father's motel around ten at night. Harry was going to spend the night at my place and I was happy about that.

"Thank you so much, Harry," I said, gave him a genuine smile as we got into my motel room. "I'm very happy."

"Anytime baby," he grinned. I loved this smile of his, the kind of smile that reached his eyes. This was my favorite smile because I knew he was really happy. "I love you," he said then leaned in to kiss me.

"I love you," I mumbled in the kiss.

We pulled away, and rested our forehead against each other's. Harry's breathing was steady and calming. He stared at me intensely, his eyes were filled with pure love and passion.

"You know I will get you for embarrassing me in front of my idol," I said softly and giggled a little.

Harry chuckled. "I wasn't embarrassing you babe," he said in defeat. "I was telling the truth."

"It wasn't the truth," I fake pouted. As I pulled my lips downwards to for a frown, an idea popped into my mouth.

"It was," he giggled.

"I'm serious," I kept up a serious tone, pretended to be mad at him. "I was totally embarrassed!"

"Don't be angry with me baby," he cooed, his voice was gentle and deep, made my heart fluttered. I was close to give up on my act.

Looked like he hadn't realized I was 'mad' at him.

"Actually, I'd rather not meeting Fernando instead of you embarrassing me in front of him," I sighed, broke the eye contact to look at the floor. If I kept looking into his green eyes, I'd ended up cracking or maybe pressing my lips against his.

"But you said you were happy," he pouted. "And you were giggling a minute ago."

"I was. But now, after I think about what you did, I'm not happy anymore," I replied, stepped away from him and sat on the couch.

"Babe, please. Don't be mad at me," he pleaded. There was a bit of sadness in his eyes.

"I was ashamed!" I raised my voice, kept my earnest face mode on.

Wow, I could be a great actress.

Harry's face expression was priceless. He was taken aback by my voice.

"Babe, I'm so sorry," Harry frowned. "I didn't know you would be pissed off like this."

I turned my head so Harry couldn't see my face that looked like I was about to laugh my head off any second. I bit my lip, tried to suppress a laugh. I took a deep breath and finally managed to hold back a giggle.

I braced myself to look at Harry. He had his face on his hands. A giggle escaped my mouth and I quickly covered it with a cough. Harry looked up at me, his eyes were wet.

"Babe," his voice was cracked, and that was when I lost it.

I clutched my stomach, and burst into a fit of endless giggles. I laughed my head off wildly. This was hilarious.

Harry looked at me in confusion before realization hit him. Then instead of laughing along with me like I had expected, he looked down and a single teardrop fell off his eyes, followed by another.

"Har-" I tried to call, but I couldn't stop laughing.

"Harry-" I tried to stop but I couldn't. I couldn't catch my breath, and in this condition I couldn't talk properly. Guilt crept into my mind but I couldn't even make it to say his name.

"I thought you were really mad at me," Harry muttered under his breath. "I was scared shitless."

"Oh God," I choked out, struggling to stop laughing. But I couldn't. "I'm sorry-" my words were beaten by giggles.

"It's okay, just keep on laughing," Harry said, looked up at me. He was no longer crying. He shook his head then chuckled.

Finally, after a moment, I managed to calm down. I caught my breath and managed to breath normally again.

"That," I took a deep breath then continued, "was totally hilarious."

"It was," Harry replied sarcastically.

"I can't believe you really believed that I was angry with you."

"You were so mean," Harry said in non serious tone.

"You should have seen your own face!" I started to laugh again. "Oh God it was funny."

"You looked so serious! I didn't know you were acting."

"It was an awful act but you were just too dumb."

"Oh shut up."

"You looked like-"

I was cut off by Harry's lips, pressed against mine. Our lips just made contact for a second before he pulled away.

"That wasn't even a kiss!" I protested.

"Do you want a proper kiss?" He teased.

"Well, it's okay if you don't want to," I trailed off, glancing at the carpeted floor beneath my feet.

"Do you want it, or not?" He pushed, teased me even more.

"Well," I bit my bottom lip.

Fuck yes Harry. I want a kiss so damn badly. A proper kiss, which is a long, sloppy one. With tongue.

"Huh?" Harry raised an eyebrow. A playful smile plastered across his feature. "You don't want to kiss me?" He fake pouted, and he looked like an adorable puppy.

"I do!" I blurted, sounded desperately.

"Then you'll get one," he said, inching towards me and lowered his body until our lips met. We kissed passionately, our tongue fought for dominance. The kiss was pretty heated, but like what I had felt earlier in the stadium, I felt like something was missing inside my heart. And it hurt me because I had no idea what the fuck, and why.

I pulled away because I wasn't keen on kissing anymore. And I also needed air. I took a deep breath then said, "let's go to sleep."

"Yeah sure," he replied under his breath.

I walked to the loo to change into my comfortable pajamas then went to the bedroom. On my queen sized bed Harry laid there in nothing but his blue boxers.

I laid next to him and he automatically wrapped his arms around me. I rested my head on his chest and my hand on his stomach.

"Goodnight baby," Harry said in sleepy voice. 

"Goodnight," I replied and smiled as he kissed the top of my head.

Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day. Harry and his band mates would do recording for their new album that was called Midnight Memories. I couldn't help but felt a little nervous since it would be the first time I go to a recording studio.

Harry's breathing was long and regular, meant that he had fallen asleep. His lips were parted slightly in slumber. As I listened to his calming heartbeat, I slowly drifted to sleep.

 

*

 

We arrived at the studio at a quarter past eight in the morning. The recording was supposed to start at eight. I was surprised they did recording that early. Their management really treated the boys like robots.

I actually felt bad for making Harry late. This morning I held him in bed a little bit longer because I wanted morning cuddle.

We stepped into a room and the other boys had been there, waiting for Harry. Harry joined them and apologized for being late then they started recording a song. The producer said that the song was called Little Black Dress. It was the tenth track of the album and there would be eighteen tracks including bonus tracks.

The songs of the album were really awesome so far. I had listened to Story Of My Life and Diana which had just released earlier this month, and the unreleased songs You & I, Happily, Right Now, and Midnight Memories. My favorite song was You & I because Harry dedicated the song to me while writing it.

I waited in another room as they were recording. It was quite boring, I was just sitting on the couch playing with Harry's phone. As I was doing a secret follow spree on Harry's Twitter, I felt the other side of the couch I was sitting on dipped down as someone took a seat on the empty spot next to me. I turned my head and the sight of Josh met my gaze. Our gaze met for a few seconds before I poured all my attention back to Harry's phone, tried to ignore Josh's presence. I felt his gaze burning into the side of my face and it was uncomfortable. Holy crap, what did this guy want? My heart beat faster; being in the same room with Josh was quite scary.

Finally I dared myself to snapped my head from Harry's phone and looked straight at Josh's direction. Like what I predicted, he was staring at me, his expression was unreadable. His eyes looked so different and strange to me; yet so familiar. I felt my stomach twisted a little as Josh and I locked our gaze.

Before I got lost into his eyes, I snapped, "what do you want?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, acting dumbfounded.

"Don't act stupid even though you're already is," I said. "Why are you keep staring at me?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"You know this isn't over," Josh said. "I mean about us. We're not over," he stated.

"No Josh," I shook my head, put Harry's phone on the table in front of me and straightened my sitting position on the sofa. "We've been over since three years ago," I remarked.

"Remember my last words before you left?" 

I gulped, and felt shivers down my spine. His last words were still fresh in my mind, and I couldn't forget it.

I will get you back. I'll find you and next time, I will never let you go. You can run this time, but next time you have no chance to escape.

Those words were more like a promise; his promise to get me again and not to let me escape. It was like a thunder just hit my brain, and I was paralyzed for a second.

Then it hit me.

He would get me back; and this time, I wouldn't have any chance to escape. He would get me back as my sex slave, or probably something worse.

"You know I'm with Harry right now," I said, my voice was shaking.

"That won't stop me."

"You won't dare. I'll tell Harry," I threatened.

"Telling Harry will be a huge mistake," he threatened back.

I gasped, and without any further thinking, I stood up and ran out of the room. I tried to run as fast as I could, my footsteps echoed down the hall. I looked back and saw that Josh wasn't running after me. But that didn't guarantee that I would be safe. I had to find a hiding place, at least until Harry came back.

I climbed the stairs and finally found myself on the rooftop. It was deserted, which was good. I sat on the ground and leaned my back against the hard wall, catching my breath. My heart was pounding fast, my head was throbbing. I was exhausted due to the running.

I looked at the sky, and noticed that the rain had surprisingly stopped. With trembling hand, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a text message to Harry, telling him to text me after he's done with the recording session.

To my surprise, Harry replied a minute later, asking me where I was. I replied right away, ignoring the fact that Harry had done the recording much sooner than what I thought. I told him I was on the rooftop and asked him to come here.

Not long after that I saw the door being opened, and I expected Harry to walk through the door. But instead of Harry, it was the last person I wanted to see.

"Josh," I gasped, my breathing was heavy and there was a lump in my throat. I couldn't breath normally, fear was taking the best of me.

Josh closed the door behind him and stepped closer towards my direction. In my anxiety, I was practically frozen. All I managed to do was stumbling backwards until my back hit the cold hard wall. I gulped, tried to expel the lump in my throat, but the lump just grew bigger.

Somehow Josh managed to rest both of his hands on the wall with me trapped in between his muscular arms. His face was just a few inches apart from mine, and I could feel his breath fanning my mouth. His familiar scent I had gotten used to was overwhelming as I breathed heavily. The redolent scent brought deja vu to me, it was like I went back to the day when we first met, when this smell was the only thing I remembered from Josh beside his name. It was quite surprising that he still used the same perfume.

"You know we're not over," Josh spoke, his voice was deep and thrilling, and it made me shiver. He slowly kept inclining closer towards me, our nose practically touched. My chest was then pressed against his flat one, and I bet he could feel my insanely fast heartbeat. His eyes were wildly searching mine, and as we locked our gaze, his eyes became softer. Again, I felt like the Josh that was right in front of me was the old Josh I used to love, the old Josh I used to adore, who wouldn't do any harm to me.

"Josh," I breathed before I felt his lips touched mine so slightly. I closed my eyes, anticipating what would happen next. But then unlike my expectation, he removed his lips from mine, left my slightly parted lips cold and craving more.

Josh made a noise that sounded like a growl from the back of his throat as he moved his lips to my neck. His lips went straight to the soft spot in my neck and sucked the skin there. I tried to hold back a moan that was threatening to escape my mouth but it seemed like an impossible mission since the pleasure he created was different than any other guy could give. Even Harry couldn't make me feel like this when he sucked my sweet spot. Josh still remembered where my soft spot was, and he knew exactly how to make me feel good.

I finally let out a whimper followed by a low moan as he bit the bruised skin on my neck, right under the left side of my jaw. It felt good, I couldn't deny it. But I didn't have feelings towards him, I guessed I couldn't love him the way I did over three years ago. What he did was intolerable and I couldn't even forgive him. He had lost all my love, my trust, and my respect.

"Let me go," I whimpered. Our bodies were rocking back and forth, my back ached a little bit as it hit the wall. Josh sucked the skin on my neck harder before letting go. I was one hundred percent sure that there would be a huge hickey on my neck; and the spot was really visible.

"You're mine," Josh hissed then stormed off, left me alone on the rooftop. Tears rolled down my cheek as I realized what just happened.

Josh had marked me.

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