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My reflection in the mirror catches my eye, and I walk toward it slowly.

I picture myself on that floor, with Caleb and Eli standing over me. I imagine their faces, the smugness, the way they both seemed so turned on while I felt humiliated and small.

My memory recalls the way come flew out of Eli’s dick all over my face and then Caleb’s. I was so humiliated, yet it was so hot. My insides twist into a deep throb. I’ve never seen so much come, let alone two dicks in front of me. And they were both turned on by me?

“Pathetic,” I whisper again, this time letting the word sting.

I turn away, stripping off my clothes and heading into the bathroom. The hot water scalds my skin, but I let it, scrubbing until I feel clean, or at least until I stop imagining them.

I pull on a pair of gray sweatpants and a loose hoodie before climbing into bed. The empty Diet Coke can sits on my nightstand, taunting me.

I should throw it back in the trash, but instead, I check the window to make sure it’s unlocked.

The house is quiet, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on my wall. Hours pass by as I toss and turn.

And then I hear the soft scrape of the window being pushed open.

I sit up, my heart racing as Eli climbs through, his dark hair tousled from the wind. He’s wearing gray joggers and a black long-sleeve shirt that clings to his frame.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper sharply, not so surprised this time.

He looks at me, his expression calm. “I’m just here to sleep.”

“Eli—”

“I’m not here to argue, princess.” He slides into bed beside me, his body radiating warmth.

I should shove him off. I should scream at him to leave. But I don’t.

When his arm wraps around me, pulling me against him, I don’t resist. The weight of him feels solid, grounding in a way I hate to admit.

I stare at the ceiling while his breathing evens out.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I fall asleep in the arms of the one person I know I should hate.

The dream feels too real, the kind of vivid that makes my skin crawl.

I’m in the library with its dim lighting and the faint smell of old books. Except I’m on the floor again, my knees pressed against the cold tiles. My heart races as I look up, and there they are.

Caleb’s wearing a red mask, the color of danger, of humiliation. Eli stands next to him in a black mask, his gray eyes piercing through the slits. They’re both smirking, their bodies towering over me like I’m prey.

“Look at her,” Caleb drawls, his voice mocking. “Our little puck bunny.”

Eli steps closer, crouching in front of me. “You liked it, didn’t you?” His tone is low, intimate, but it cuts like a blade.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I didn’t—”

“Liar,” Eli interrupts, his hand gripping my chin, forcing me to look at him.

Caleb laughs. “She loved every second of it.”

I can feel their eyes on me, burning through me, and the shame is suffocating.

I wake up with a start, my chest heaving as tears streak down my cheeks. The room is dark, but the weight of the dream lingers, heavy and oppressive.

A warm arm tightens around me, pulling me closer.

“I’m sorry,” Eli whispers, his voice rough with sleep.