I know why Hadley's finally putting out - even an idiot could figure it out. And I don't like it. Before, I'd have seen it as a bit of improvement, even if the motives behind it aren't exactly the best ones.
But after what happened... let's just say John's cured me of my libido for a while.
I see Hadley's frown at my fairly obvious attempts to let him know I'm not sure about this and close my eyes, forcing a hum as he hugs me tighter. The idiot should know I'm not going to get impatient and leave him, especially for someone like John.
I know I should just tell him, but for some reason, I can't make myself speak and I just lay there in his arms, pretending to be more tired than I am.
"Hadley, I... you're not putting out because you're scared I'll leave you if you don't, are you?" I ask, opening my eyes. Sure, I figured it out for myself, but I want to see what he has to say about it.
"No. What made you think that?"
"The fact you had a nightmare in which I left you because I got bored of waiting." And the times I slept with Caleb and Alex because I was frustrated that I wasn't getting any.
"Like you said, it was just a dream, right?"
"Of course. I just..." I shrug, "I'm not going to get bored of waiting. Don't pressure yourself because of me."
"I'm not." I smile slightly, still doubtful. But if he wants to, then I guess I can't argue with that. I might just have to sneak home and watch some porn first...
My thoughts on how the hell I'm going to be able to perform after last night are cut off as he kisses me and I kiss back.
"You better take me somewhere nice for dinner. I'm not a whore, y'know?" he smiles and I nod, wondering vaguely where we could go.
"I know," I smile back, "we can go back to mine, too. Motel sex is no fun when you're not a whore."
"That must make Caleb and Alex fucking mega whores then." I laugh slightly, both at what he said and how he left me off the list.
"Mmm, must do." He sighs contentedly and I smile, reaching up to play with his hair absently as I close my eyes again. As he hums, I feel a wave of tiredness wash over me unexpectedly. I start to fall asleep again, apparently more hung over than I first thought I was and Hadley laughs a little. "What?" I mumble.
"I'm supposed to be the sleepy one."
"My hangover caught up with me." He giggles and I crack open one eye to glower at him. He kisses my forehead.
"Get some sleep. I might go see Caleb," he says, making my heart sink a little. I don't want to be left on my own.
"Mmm. Kill Alex for me," I mutter instead, resisting the urge to go all clingy.
"Make up your mind."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes. I'm not being held responsible if you change your mind again." I pout.
"Fine. Just punch him for me, then." He rolls his eyes and I smile. "You love me really."
"Sleep." He pecks me on the lips and I nod, earning a smile from him. He gets up and goes off to see Caleb, leaving me there.
"Fuck," I mutter to myself, "fuck, fuck, fuck." I never thought I'd see the day that I'd worry about having sex with someone, but here I am having a mental spaz over whether I'll even be able to go through with it, let alone get it up. Which wouldn't exactly do good things to Hadley's already shitty sexual confidence. I'm torn between the urge to bang my head off a wall and the urge to just sit here in a self pitying session of mental rambling.
My eyes drift over to the clothes that Hadley had folded up from last night. When I'd said get rid of them, I'd meant put them in a bin. I get up and gingerly pick up the jeans and boxers, letting myself out of the room so I can go stick them in the dumpster round the back.
All the way down there, I'm freaking out and asking myself why I'm so tense. Why? Because I've suddenly developed this irrational fear that John will appear and try something while I'm trying to throw away last night's clothes.
Of course he doesn't. But I can't relax until I'm back in the room with the door locked. And even then I don't relax much. I want Hadley back. To pass the time, I figure I might as well have a shower, since there's no way I'm going to get to sleep now. I wander into the bathroom and undress, doing my best to ignore my reflection in the mirror that's hung over the sink. It's hard though. I keep glancing at the reflection wondering why. Why me? Of all the people John could have done that to, why me?
I suppose I brought it on myself, though - I should have sobered up and called the police like I'd meant to, or knocked John out and looked for the key to the handcuffs while he was unconscious.
The game of should have, could have, would have continues in my head for ages, during my shower, while I'm getting dressed, while I wait for Hadley to come back. I sit on the floor with my knees up to my chest and my elbows resting on them. At some point, I put my arms up and bury me head in them, clutching at my hair as I feel my chest tighten and my breathing become erratic.