5

Chapter 5: Drunken State.

 

Sofia POV.

 

His father's eyes were fixed on him.

 

Sweat gathered all over Tristain’s head.

 

My breathing is unstable.

 

My chest tightened knowing if his father heard what I was about to say, he could disown him and withdraw every form of support.

 

“Say something already!" His father yelled.

 

"Sofia, don't."

 

“Tristain is gay." I said firmly.

 

"What?" His father let go of his waist.

 

“Dad didn't believe her. ”.

 

“She's a liar and a manipulator," Tristain swore, his reaction uneasy.

 

“A few others and I caught him in the dormitory with a guy thrusting into his butthole."

 

“This must be a joke." His father burst into laughter.

 

“Yes, Dad, it's a joke." Tristain mumbled, cleaning sweat off his forehead in a cold room.

 

“Two guys from the senior class have the video recording; they have been extorting money from him." I explained further, crossing both hands against my chest.

 

“I see."

 

"Dad, I promise..."

 

“Not another word from you." His father warned.

 

The old man walked towards the bar, downed a glass of hot tea, and Tristan and I both stood there waiting for his judgment.

 

If I go down.

 

He does too.

 

The old man walked back to us, blowing his other hand twice.

 

"Tristain."

 

"Dad."

 

"Triatain."

 

"Dad, it's not…”

 

"Triatain." His father cut him short.

 

“Delete every video you have of her right now." His father ordered, his voice cold.

 

"Dad, it's not up….”

 

“Do not make me repeat myself." The old man's voice was filled with authority and power.

 

Tristain searched for his phone instantly, scanning through and swiping off.

 

I swallowed hard.

 

The old man's lips moved in sync, like he was counting down to zero.

 

“Are you done? ”. The old man asked with his gaze not leaving Tristain.

 

“I have deleted them all, but a lot of the other students already saved it."

 

“You know how to share the videos around; you would sniff out every one of them or face my wrath." The old man threatened.

 

For the first time in two years of us dating, I saw Tristsin shiver, I saw him shake, I saw his mood change to anxiousness, and fear consumed him.

 

It felt satisfying to see the one person others feared tremble and almost urinate in his pants from his father's threats.

 

"Understood?"

 

“Understood, sir," Tristain answered promptly.

 

"Better." The old man raised his brows.

 

“Now apologize to her; you owe this young lady an apology." The old man added.

 

Tristain looked at me in disgust; if the father had gone close, he would have pinned me to the couch and beaten the living hell out of me.

 

"Now."

 

“I'm sorry." He said flatly.

 

He felt no atom of remorse.

 

I hissed in dissatisfaction.

 

Not like I cared.

 

I had already given him a taste of his own medicine; either he was apologizing under the influence of his father or out of a place of remorse…I really didn't care.

 

The old man shifted his gaze to me. "Will that do, or do you want him to lick your feet?" ”.

 

“I don't need him licking my feet; he shouldn't come anywhere close to me."

 

“Leave this minute." He orders his son.

 

Tristain was hesitant for a minute, and he left afterward, leaving just the two of us.

 

I brought my phone out; the comment popping in on my screen had reduced, and the time was far gone. If I went home by this time, I'd trek home; it was close to midnight.

 

Where did all the time go? I wandered?

 

When the footsteps of Tristain were no longer heard, I glued my eyes to the aquarium, watching the tiny golden fish swim around in circles, while the others served as audience to the fish, reminding her of how special she was.

 

It was just the two of us.

 

The old man stared at me like he won an influential deal; I shifted my gaze at him at intervals.

 

“You were walking into the world intentionally. What was your aim, to get killed on purpose? ”.

 

“I'm sorry." I whispered.

 

Those were the only words that came to my mouth.

 

I wasn't thinking straight.

 

“What if my driver had run over you?" He asked again.

 

Realization hit me.

 

I was walking into my own death, damning the consequences.

 

The tears poured freely.

 

I bite my lips hard, filled with regret.

 

"I wasn't in my right senses," I answered.

 

“I figured." The old man added.

 

“You care for a drink?" He asked, walking straight to the bar, grabbing another glass cup, and not waiting for my response. Taking some free shots wouldn't hurt; I was cold either way, and I needed something to make me feel warm from within.

 

With my eyes swollen, I needed something to distract me from reality.

 

"Here." He handed the liquor to me.

 

I smelled it first.

 

Its scent is familiar.

 

It was one of those exotic wines Tristan would sneak to school to get me high so I could be nasty and shameless while he thrust into me; in his words, I looked more sexually appealing whenever I was drunk.

 

I gulped it down in one gulp; the hotness burned my throat. I shut my eyes, and my face squeezed.

 

“Want some more?" He asked again.

 

"Yes, please." I walked close to him, holding the glass cup while he poured some more.

 

I gulped down five more glasses, my head beginning to feel dizzy.

 

“I should go." I stammered, missing my way, trying to locate the door.

 

“The night is far gone." The old man persuaded me by holding my waist, my chest pressed on his; I yawned in his face, my body acting funny.

 

“My bed is at home," I stammered.

 

“You can sleep on my bed." The old man's voice echoed.

 

I smiled.

 

The smile of stupidity.

 

“Your bed?" I asked, smiling, like I had been waiting for this moment.

 

“Yes, it's wide enough to contain both of us, my princess." He grabbed my buttocks slowly, his touch soft and soothing.

 

I smiled.

 

“Do it again," I whispered, robbing his lips.

 

The old man grabbed my buttocks, spanking me multiple times.

 

“Your buttocks are so soft." He complimented.

 

I smiled.

 

He smiled back.

 

The next minute I leaned in, pressing my lips against his.

 

His lips are too soft and succulent for his age.

 

He kissed back, and I pressed further, sucking his saliva with my tongue. He deep kissed me, grabbing my buttocks at intervals. I wasn't in my right frame of mind, but yet I enjoyed his touch.

 

He grabbed my breast in force, squeezing hard while still kissing me, and I kept gasping for breath.

 

He carried me at once; I felt his body moving.

 

It was about time. ….