"WHAT THE HELL am I supposed to do?" I sighed in exasperation, shoving my face into the palms of my hands. "I feel like such a player."

     "Okay, so you have the edgy boy and the baseball boy all over you and you can't choose between them is what I'm hearing," Ayana concluded. It was a cold Saturday and spring felt so far away. I really just wanted it to be warm by now.

     "It's not that I can't choose between them, it's just that I don't even know if I'm ready to commit to a relationship. It feels like I'm leading them on and if I end up not even wanting to be in a relationship, I feel like nothing good will turn out from it," I explained, looking out of the café window as I took a sip from the coffee. "Maybe I'm being selfish. Maybe I should just let them both go."

     "Don't let them go when they're obviously so happy with you right now. But just know that only you can tell if you're really ready for a relationship or not," the girl told me with a shrug before a glimmer of curiosity struck in her eyes, "but if you had to, who would you choose?"

     "What if that happiness ends it they find out that I'm not ready for a relationship?" I asked, ignoring her last question though it was plastered into my mind now.

     "Have you seen Tobias? I think he'd be completely fine with just being friends. I don't know about Archer, but I think that you're good for him. Just like they're both good for you," she answered.

—

Ayana's question replayed in my mind like a broken record as I went on about my day. Who would I choose? Is it even okay to choose? I feel like they're like some type of toy and I'm being forced to choose one or I wouldn't get either of them. Thanks Mom.

The air was dry and cold as I walked on the concrete sidewalk back to my house. It didn't help that the jacket I was wearing was extremely light and I had nothing but a t-shirt Ayana let me "borrow" because apparently I needed a better variety of clothes that didn't consist of the same three t-shirts and hoodie that I wore every day. She told me that she lent it to me for a while but we both know that she's going to let me keep it. It's not like I didn't like the shirt, but I didn't want her to give me things out of pity.

     I put the hoodie over my head and clutched my hands closer to the pockets of the jacket. The few cars that did pass through this neighborhood didn't even bother to stay under the speed limit, and it left me to deal with the aftermath that was the strong gust of wind that the car caused. Honestly, anything under sixty degrees is cold as fuck. I don't care what anyone else says or thinks because I just know that I'm right, and the forty degree weather I was in currently was anything but preferable.

Not to mention that the sun was already starting to set against the horizon. I remember the times where I used to climb on top of the roof during the summer to watch the sunset back in middle school. The view wasn't the best considering the trees that ended up covering it, but the sky was still pretty. Even though I was always alone with nobody home, the sky was still pretty.

Then Oliver came and we would watch it together. It wasn't much, but that spot on the roof as the sun gradually went down beyond the horizon was my favorite place in the world. It made me feel so safe. Now that things are over, I haven't been up there since. I haven't even stopped to try and look at the sun set or rise because all I see in it is the face of my ex. Staring at me. Disappointed that I left. Anger. Regret. Sadness.

I shook the thought off as I arrived to my house. I didn't bother knocking or announcing my arrival since I knew that my mother would be knocked out from the night before or already be out drinking more. When I went inside and put my hood down, I found myself face to face with my mom latched onto another man's arm. Confusion flashed across my face before anger started to boil in my veins.

"Who the fuck is this?" I asked calmly, trying to hold in the emotions that were slowly arising to the surface. How the hell could my mom even think about replacing Dad? How the hell could she go all those years becoming an alcoholic, not caring about her own daughter and then face me like nothing's happened? Why is she smiling?

"Irene, language," she scolded me like she hadn't spewed out worse than I had a few nights before. Like a real mother would do. I tried to search for any sign of alcohol coursing through her body, but I knew deep down that nothing would show up. She was stone cold sober and she had a man at the house she didn't even bother to take of.

I do so much shit and she goes around sleeping with strangers and drinking her sorrows away like the pain from my father's death could ever go away. The thought made me so livid to the point where my head started to hurt.

"Does he know how many random guys you've slept around with? Does he know how much of an alcoholic you are? Does he know that you couldn't give a single shit about your own daughter because you're too caught up with wallowing over somebody who's been dead for years?" I spoke, increasingly getting louder as the seconds passed. It hurt to say them aloud, especially when I dismissed my dad's death so easily.

I was sick to my stomach. Not only because of her but because of my own words. Maybe I should've said something different. The smile dropped from her face and all that was left was guilt. I was genuinely happy that she was in pain. That she felt all of the guilt that she tried to drink away for all of these years.

It wasn't long for her to mask it, but it wasn't very well hidden. I could still see the pain in her eyes, the fake smile she had put on, the way she was clutching on the new man beside her even more. Like he could somehow help her. She was too broken to be saved, so why was he here?

"Irene, this is Joseph Rotiva," she introduced the man beside her. He gave me a small smile like I hadn't done anything in any way to harm him or my mom. I hated it. "Joseph, this is my daughter, Irene. Would you like to go sit in the living room for now and we'll get some drinks?"

Joseph spent a moment to look at me before turning around to go sit on the couch. A sigh cane from my mother's mouth as she opened one the cabinets that I always kept organized because she always ruined it. She pulled out three glasses and opened the fridge to get a half empty gallon jug of sweet tea.

     "Nah, fuck this," I told her straight up before walking out the door and ignoring the way my mom called out my name. Like she was worried.

I put my hood back up, knowing that she wouldn't run after me. She never has, so why would that change? The last thing I heard her say before I heard the front door close was "I'm sorry."

Two words that seemed to hurt so much because part of me felt like it wasn't true. If she were truly sorry, she would've been there for me when Dad died. She wouldn't have sent me off to relatives because she was too busy getting wasted to take care of her own daughter. I don't care is she's sober now— what's done is done.

My new destination was the only thing I could think of: Archer's house. Maybe it was a bad idea, but I knew that I'd calm down if I heard his voice. It was so incredibly stupid considering I wanted nothing to do with him before we met. We were complete opposites, so I wasn't sure why I felt so calm with him. It really didn't matter right now though.

     The hour walk to his house was no better than walking to my own house. The air was a lot colder now and the sun was almost below the horizon. I shuddered as I walked up to the door and knocked, praying that Archer would be the one to open the door. Not only did I feel like complete shit, I probably looked that way as well. I didn't want one of his siblings or his dad to open the door.

     "Irene?" Archer looked worried and confused at the same time when he opened the door. "What happened, are you o-"

     I interrupted his worries and crashed my lips against his, moving my hand to grip his hair. He instantly kissed back with the same intensity and I felt the butterflies erupt from within my stomach. It was short-lasted. He pulled away and gently tilted my chin to look up at him.

     "Why are you here?" he questioned, the worry covering another emotion behind his eyes.

     "Tutoring session, of course," I blatantly lied.

     "Today isn't tutoring day and you look like you've been crying," he told me the obvious. I hadn't even noticed that I'd been crying. I guess I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to notice anything.

     "Yeah, I missed you so much, I just couldn't wait," I told him sarcastically with a grin to which he only shook his head with a small smile on his face.

     "Let's go to my room," he murmured into my ear as he gave me a small hug. I nodded in response and followed him up the elegant stairs. I wondered if he enjoyed living here. The house was absolutely beautiful but what about his father? Did he ever just want to run away?

     Once we were in his room, he sat down on the bed and pat the spot beside him. I instantly complied and sat next to him, our eyes locking again. It seemed like the first time our eyes met, and I felt the urge to look away. I fought against it due to the fact that I didn't want to look even more vulnerable than I already did.

     "Talk to me," he told me softly. Instead of replying, I took my shoes off and laid down on his bed, staring out of the window. It was dark now but I didn't see any stars out. A shame.

     He laid down beside me and looked at me with the same concern he had when I first arrived. Why was he still worried? Oliver never worried for this long. He rarely ever worried about me, and that was okay with me. I was bad at communicating with these kind of things.

     "It's nothing," I muttered when I realized he was waiting for me to speak. I slowly leaned closer to his face and felt him do the same. Our foreheads were touching now, but his gaze at me felt comforting now. I didn't want to look away.

     "Darling," he whispered quietly, "it's not nothing. I know it's not."

     I stared at him for a moment, no words coming to mind. I didn't know how to respond. Was it okay to tell him? Of course it was— he knows that my mom is irresponsible. So why couldn't I form any coherent thought right now?

     "Can I kiss you?" I murmured, moving my hand to trace my fingers along his lips.

     He was the one to connect his lips with mine. It was gentle. Caring. I ran my fingers through his dark hair, etching him closer and deepening the kiss. He bit my lip softly and I felt sparks appear from nowhere. A soft moan came unwillingly from my mouth, causing him to move closer to me.

     The kiss only intensified as he got on top of me. His hand went from caressing my face to slowly slivering underneath my shirt and onto my skin. He was so warm and I felt myself melting into the kiss even more. I parted my lips ever so slightly, letting the boy's tongue slip into my mouth. His hand moved to my boob and he groped it out of nowhere. Another moan slipped from my mouth.

     "Are you sure you want this?" he pulled away from the kiss and murmured, planting small kisses on my neck.

     "I'm sure," I whispered back, slowly taking off the jacket and placing it beside me. "I want this. I want you."

     He nodded and pulled off his shirt to reveal a tattoo of roman numerals below his collarbone. There were scars across parts of his body. Once his shirt was off, he slowly took mine off and unhooked my bra as he kissed me from my neck down to my stomach. He started to kiss me again, gently moving his hand up and down my body. Not long after, all of our clothes were off and we were fully making out again.

He pulled away, staring at me with a small smile etched onto his face. "You're so pretty."

"Shut up," I muttered, covering my face to hide the redness rushing to my cheeks.

"Don't cover your face, baby," he whispered, pulling my hands from out of my face and kissing my forehead. He reached his hand down to my entrance, teasing it and making me moan softly once again.

"Stop teasing me," I groaned, thrusting my hips into his hands. He complied, pushing a finger in, and I had to cover my mouth to muffle my moan.

"You're so fucking wet," he told me softly and I turned my head because I just knew that my face was turning redder by the second.

"I need you," I moaned quietly, causing him to move his finger in and out. Holy fuck.

He hummed in approval, kissing, biting, and sucking on the soft spot of my neck. A sense of euphoria flowed through every part of my body as he kissed my neck and pushed another finger into me. My moans grew louder and he had to cover his hand over my mouth.

"Shh, you don't want anyone to hear how pathetic you sound for me, do you?" he whispered in my ear before going back to kissing my neck.

The comment only turned me on more. "I need you. Please," I begged against his hand and a small smirk appeared on his face.

"Do you?" he asked, "how much do you need me?"

"Please," I begged again, no other thoughts coming to mind apart from the desire for him to fuck me.

He grinned and leaned over me to get a what looked like a condom. I smiled and closed my eyes, waiting for him to put it on. Suddenly, I felt his dick push inside of me and I let out a loud moan, causing him to move his hand over my mouth again.

"Didn't I tell you to be quiet, baby?" he whispered as he pushed in and out of me. Like I could help it.

The only thing that I could process in my mind was how good it felt. The boy let out small moans as he slid in and out of me. He wrapped his arms around my back, and I did the same around his neck. It only let him go further inside of me, and the only sounds I could focus on were our jagged breaths and quiet moans.

"I'm going to cum," I moaned out as he thrusted his hips upward, going even faster than before.

"Fuck," he murmured under his breath. "Cum for me."

Those three words were all it took for me to reach my climax. A feeling exploded inside of me and I had to put mouth against his neck to muffle my moans. The dark haired boy pulled out and came on his bedsheets soon afterwards with heavy breaths. After he had calmed down a bit, he looked at me like I was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

I let myself fall back onto his bed as I tried to slow my own breathing down. He laid down beside me, disregarding the fact that we were both naked at the moment. It was a little embarrassing considering the only people who've seen me naked are Oliver and Ayana, but I didn't say anything. To be honest, I was too buzzed and exhausted from cumming to say anything.

"Irene, I really do think that I'm in love with you," he told me out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around me to being me closer to him. "I don't want to rush things. I know what happened with your ex, and I know you might not be ready for anything serious. But I just want you to know that I genuinely have never felt this way about anyone."

I nodded, putting my head against his chest. His heart was racing. "I think I like you too."

"I don't want this to be one of those 'in the moment' things," he murmured, caressing my hair. "Just take time to think about it, okay?"

"Okay," I replied softly. I felt extremely bad because I still didn't know if I could commit to a serious relationship. What if I was playing with his feelings? Fuck, I hate my mind.

We stayed there cuddling for a while before we both got dressed again. Once all of my clothes were back on, I looked over to see the boy staring at me with a silly grin etched onto his face.

"Let me take you to dinner," he told me, "right now."

—
ok someone wanted smut so here u go u guys better be thankful. also this chapter was kinda long wtf

qotd: what's the most exciting thing you've ever done/going to do soon?

aotd: i cannot say it's too rated r for u guys