ELI
The first thing I felt was the ache. A slow, crawling burn in my lower back that flared into sharp pain the moment I tried to stretch. My legs trembled as I shifted, groaning softly. My waist, my hips, my inner thighs, everything hurt. It was the kind of soreness I imagined marathon runners complained about, except this wasn't from running.
This was from Damir.
My cheeks flushed hot as the memories flooded me. Last night.
The weight of his body pressed to mine. The way he whispered my name like it was both a prayer and a curse. The way he filled me, claimed me, kissed me until I forgot my own name. The way I cried out and came apart under him, like he'd cracked open something inside me I didn't even know was there.
My thighs instinctively clenched, and I hissed from the sting.
Damn it.
I slowly rolled to the side, expecting the warmth of his body to be there…the secure heaviness of his arm slung around my waist. But the bed was cold. Empty.
My heart skipped.
"Damir?" My voice was scratchy, hoarse from all the moaning and crying I'd done last night. I cleared my throat, sat up with a wince, and looked around.
He wasn't there.
The sun streamed softly through the sheer curtains, lighting the massive bedroom in gold. His side of the bed was neatly pushed back, his watch missing from the nightstand. The shirt I'd worn last night lay on the floor, along with my shorts, twisted and tossed away like evidence of sin.
That's when I heard his phone buzzing.
The sound came from the velvet armchair in the corner. I tried to stand, only for my knees to buckle beneath me. I caught the bedpost, sucking in a sharp breath.
Shit.
I was wrecked. My body was a war zone.
Still, I stumbled toward the chair, legs weak, every step making me remember what we did.
Blushing furiously, I grabbed the phone just as another buzz came in.
The name on the screen made my stomach drop.
"Juseon"
My dad.
I froze.
Another message popped up right beneath it:
"Where is Eli? His date said he ditched her. No calls, no texts. I'm calling the police if I don't hear back in 10 minutes. This is serious, Damir!"
Shit. Shit. SHIT.
My fingers trembled. I felt like I was going to throw up. I'd completely forgotten. About the date. About everything. All I knew last night was that I wanted Damir more than I wanted to breathe.
But now…
Now my dad thought I'd gone missing.
Without thinking, I rushed back to the bed and pulled on the first things I could find…my shorts, a shirt that was definitely Damir's, oversized and smelling like him. My insides cramped suddenly, a twisting pressure that made me groan and hunch over.
Pain shot through my stomach like a wave.
I paused, hand over my belly. Something felt… off. Sticky. Wet.
When I looked down, I saw the pale remnants of what had leaked out of me.
Semen.
Still inside.
Still dripping.
I'd… forgotten to clean up.
My face burned in shame. I didn't know. I didn't know it could hurt like this after. That something still being in me could make me feel this weird.
I didn't have time to think. My dad was going to report me missing.
I clutched my phone, stuffed it into my shorts, and hobbled out of Damir's room as fast as I could, not even bothering to leave a note. My steps were clumsy, uneven. The pain was sharp now…pressing deep in my lower stomach like a cramp that wouldn't go away.
The car ride was a blur. I don't even remember how I got back. Maybe I took a cab. Maybe I walked halfway and cried the rest. But somehow, I made it to our neighborhood and burst through the front door just as my dad was pacing in the living room, phone pressed to his ear.
He looked up, and the relief on his face shifted quickly into confusion.
"Eli?"
"Appa, I'm sorry….I forgot..I didn't mean to…" I stumbled forward, dizzy, the world tilting sideways.
My dad caught me before I could hit the floor.
"What the hell happened? Where were you? Your date said you ditched her…wait, are you sick?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My stomach twisted again, and I bent over, groaning.
He touched my forehead. "You're burning up. What the fuck…have you eaten anything? Did someone do something to you?"
"No…I mean yes…I don't know…" My voice cracked.
"Jesus. Okay. We're going to the hospital."
He didn't wait. Didn't question me further. Just scooped me into his arms like he used to when I was small and ran out to his car.
The entire ride, I kept my face turned to the window, my shame crawling up my throat like acid. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him that I'd slept with his best friend. That I'd run out without saying goodbye. That I was hurting inside, both from love and the aftermath.
I clutched my stomach as we pulled up in front of the hospital.
My dad barked at the nurses as soon as we entered.
"He's in pain. His stomach. He's burning up. Do something!"
Everything blurred after that. Fluorescent lights. Cold air. The tight grip of my father's hand as they brought out a wheelchair and asked me to sit.
And all I could think about was Damir.
Would he be worried? Would he look for me?
Would he be angry that I left without saying goodbye?
Or would he… be scared?
My stomach twisted again as they rolled me down the corridor.
I just hoped he'd come for me.