I found Andrew in the kitchen. Listening to a muffled jazz tune, he was cutting something.
"What time is it?" I asked him.
"Two in the morning," he answered, pointing behind me.
I turned around and saw the clock on the wall. I sat down on a high chair, right in front of Andrew.
"You're prettier without makeup," he said.
"Yeah, I saw myself in the mirror before I washed my face."
“I saw you before the smeared makeup. Sorry, but I couldn't find your bag.”
Compliment, though! That's very supportive!
“I want to go home. I just don't know the address.”
I was going to say I'd call a cab, but then I remembered my phone. Although there's some change in my coat pocket, it should be enough for the subway.
"Stay until morning, I'll drive you myself."
"I can't now, I've had a few drinks and I can't drive."
"Can I stay until morning?" I sneered.
"You can stay until the next night," I was graciously allowed.
I hummed, showing my attitude towards what was happening.
Diana broke off the engagement. Her father is my father's partner. I was asked to rid the girl of an alfonso…" At this point I burst out, clenching my fists in anger, and he continued, ignoring my indignation: "Before that, Alex was courting the chief accountant. She is a prominent woman, but more than ten years older than him.
"I'm glad you're happy with what happened," I said.
"Don't be angry, just think how fortunate everything turned out for you. Eat."
Andrew put a plate of meat, cheese, and vegetables in front of me and added a glass of wine to it. I looked at him suspiciously: what else he had mixed in....
“Drink calmly. With whiskey, it really turned out stupid. Hera told me that you already have nervous stress, and here you have a whiskey. Now you’ve slept, calmed down a little, but it’s still better to eat first.”
Almost without taste, I ate a couple of slices of meat and a tomato. It was strange: Andrew and I were seeing each other for the first time, and he didn't mind me staying the night.
"I'd better sleep a little longer," I decided.
I didn't really want to sleep, but my leg was aching. I decided it would be better if I lay down and distracted myself, hoping to find a book or magazine in the room. Judging by the bandage, I had a sprain, but it would take a couple of days.
"I'll help," Andrew decided. – "Don't argue. If you don't feel sorry for yourself today, tomorrow you won't be able to walk at all."
He was right, and I let myself be picked up in his arms. The room was also dark. I didn't know where to turn on the light, and Andrew just hadn't seen fit to do so. Darkness, a bedroom, and a man – the combination made me a little uncomfortable, and I hastily tried to move away from him, leaning on my sore leg. I staggered; Andrew picked me up and pulled me against him. His breath traveled down my neck, and my legs weakened for another reason.
The lock on my dress moved, and a trail of light kisses traveled down my back. The dress fell to my feet, followed by my bra. Principles and moral attitudes also scattered to the corners of my consciousness and lurked so that I couldn't find them. The world shook, changing our position in space. The weight of a man's body added to the kisses. He pulled me under his thighs and pulled me to him, pressing me against his groin.
Consciousness made one last attempt to stop it. To order the barely familiar man to stop. But the first push put an end to extraneous thoughts. His hands, his lips seemed to have time everywhere, the movements becoming sharper, faster, more passionate. All that was left to do was claw at the sheet, scream, and then try to breathe.
