The 30 Days Day 07-09: Party Spirit

This story features discussion of mental illness and hints at grace's less than pleasant past. I have endevoured to do soon a fair an accurate way, using my own experience of mental illness personally, as well as through my friends and my work in mental healthcare. It may not be enjoyable reading for all, however, mental illness has defined each of my relationships in some way and I feel it is important to discuss it in fiction, without either romanticising or demonising it. If mention of self-harm, depression, anxiety disorder, or sexual assault would cause you to feel uncomfortable then I'd ask you to please skip this story and pick up again in the next part. If you have struggled with these issues, please feel free to message me if you need to, I am always happy to help people in any way I can.

If you are happy to keep reading, then please enjoy!

- J

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Day 7 - Thursday

Grace hurried home, excited to see if her package had arrived. It had. Grabbing the delivery from her mailbox in the foyer, she headed up to her room and hurriedly opened it. Throwing the packing aside, she pulled from the box first a bright red dress, and admired it in the light. The material was stretchy and much more sheer than it looked in the photos: when she held it up to the light Grace could almost see through it. "I hope my confidence is up tomorrow, then," she thought. Placing the dress carefully down by her side, she picked out the next matching pair of items: black leather garter belts, adorned with shining metal studs and rings. They were tough and well made, and went so well with the red stockings which she pulled out of the box following those. Finally, she lifted out the set of plastic horns and cushioned tail that completed the outfit. She would be the hottest devil ever, she thought, and couldn't wait to try it all on.

Scooping the new outfit up, she scurried over to the mirror, and threw off her top. She paused for a moment, admiring the marks that still showed on her pale skin, running her fingers over the red lines and brown bruises as she thought about how she'd got them, and how much fun she'd had doing it. Every time she took her clothes off she couldn't help but think of him now, and every time she thought of him her heart fluttered a little, making her smile, and making her want him. She was determined to make him want her even more, and was sure this outfit would do the trick. After pulling off her jeans, she first grabbed the garter belts and pulled them up her legs, fastening them tight at the top of each thigh. The soft flesh squished a little as the metal and leather pressed against it, and Grace loved the way it looked on her slim legs, the tough black leather contrasting against her soft pale skin. Next came the brilliant red stockings, which felt soft and silky in her hands and hugged her legs so perfectly as she pulled them up. They covered all the marks and scars on her legs, which she liked - Grace hated having her legs on display, especially when her skin was bad like it was now. Finally, she grabbed the dress, and held it in front of herself for a moment, admiring the little patterns in the fabric and the attractive design. The fabric seemed to shimmer a little in the light, and felt so good under her fingers.

"He's gonna tear this thing so quickly isn't he?" she thought to herself, slipping into a daydream about the way Alex would treat her in it. She could imagine the feeling of his hands through the fabric, the way he would grip her and hold her, the way he'd show off his power and dominate her so physically. She wanted that so bad, to be roughed up, fucked, used. Tomorrow night couldn't come soon enough.

Snapping back to the present moment, Gace lifted the dress over her head, and slid it down her body, feeling it stretch and grip her curves as the zip was pulled closed. It felt amazing, hugging her tightly in all the right places, but as she looked up at herself in the mirror Grace got a shock. The dress was so much shorter on her than it looked in the photos, and by the time the thin fabric was stretched over her it was even more see-through than before; in the right light, her pale skin was visible through it. Every bruise, every scar, every little mark was showing under the red material, and she was so embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed as red as the dress at the thought of meeting all of Alex's friends dressed like this, with so much on display. The hem hardly covered the garters, even when she was standing, and her bra showed through so clearly.

"Fuck," she cursed, "everyone's going to think I'm a slut! And an ugly one at that, nobody wants a slutty girl who's covered in scars, I'll look awful, what will they think of me? What will Alex think of me? There's no way he'll want to be seen with me when I look like this, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck." She could feel her heart rate rising, her breathing becoming faster, her head starting to spin, but from panic not from excitement. The more she tried to control her breathing, the worse it got. The room span faster and faster, her vision began to deteriorate and close in around the edges, she couldn't focus on anything. She was sick to her stomach, dizzy, totally unable to think straight. Desperately she battled against the onrushing tide of panic that was washing over her. "Deep breaths," she told herself, "calm down. You're okay, nothing's going to hurt you." She tried to think what Alex would say to her. She knew he's know the right thing, he always knew the right thing to say, he always helped. "Why can't he be here?" she whimpered to herself in shaky words. Fighting against her own mind, Grace slowly managed to regain some amount of control over her thoughts.

By the time she was aware of her surroundings, she realised that she had all but curled up into a ball on the floor in front of the mirror, and glancing up at herself she saw tears streaming down bright red cheeks, and nail marks in her arms where she had been gripping herself tightly.

"I look fucking horrible," she thought outlout, sobbing. The sight was enough to swell the tide into a tsunami, a great wave of horrible thoughts crashing down on her, crushing her, surrounding her, drowning her. Desperately she reached out for her phone, and with trembling hands tried to find Alex so she could message him, but her fingers just would not work the keys, her body and her subconscious were fighting against her every step of the way. She hated to call without messaging first, but she needed to hear his voice, she needed him to get inside of her head and push those demons out, he could help her in ways nobody else had ever been able to manage before. A shaky thumb fumbled for the dial button, and eventually found it with a beep. The phone rang. And rang again.

"Please pickup please pickup please pickup," Grace chanted to herself softly as she prayed and prayed that he'd be there. Finally there was a noise at the other end of the line.

"Hey, Gorgeous," came his audibly concerned voice, "is everything okay?" He always knew when something was wrong, somehow.

Grace tried to find the words to replym but instead all that came out was a loud, pathetic sob.

Instantly she heard rustling through the phone,as Alex sprung to his feet.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here, what's wrong, kitten?" As he spoke he darted through his house, looking for shoes and his coat. "Are you okay? Do you need me to come see you? Are you hurt?" Still Grace couldn't seem to form words in reply, but just the sound of his voice was enough to calm her a little. "Are you having a panic attack?"

"Y-uh huh" Grace sobbed through hyperventilating breaths.

"Okay, just try and stay calm, focus on my voice, alright kitten? I'll come and see you, are you at the flat?"

"Yes," she replied, shakily, working hard to pick out his words through the sound of her own heart pumping in her ears. Listening hard, she picked out the slam of a door, and the animalistic toans of a sport car engine roaring into life.

"I'm on my way over right now kitten, okay? I'll get there as fast as I can. Just try and talk to me if you can until I get there, you're gonna be just fine."

By the time Alex had arrived, he'd been able to help Grace regain enough control over her mind that she was at least able to slow her breathing, and regain enough of her senses to open the door for him when he arrived. As soon as the door sung open he grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her into a tight hug. A hugh which she gladly returned, holding onto him tight and burying her head into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. For what felt like forever they stood there, hardly moving, holding onto each other as she sobbed and he ran his hands through her soft hair, doing his best to calm her down.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, eventually.

"You haven't got a single thing to be sorry for," he reassured her, stepping away from her a little to look down into her sad eyes, "you never have to apologise to me for needing help, with anything. I'll always be here."

"Thank you," she mouthed gratefully, wiping some tears from her eyes.

"Why don't we go inside properly so we can close the door, then I'll make us some tea and we can sit and have a cuddle?

Grace nodded in agreement, and he looked at her with the most reassuring smile, as she walked deeper into the small apartment and collapsed onto her bed.

Grace's apartment was, as an estate agent might say, 'cosy.' The door opened right into the kitchen area, which had only a small oven, a sink, a microwave and some storage space. That occupied half of the left-hand side of the flat, the other half was taken up with the equally sparse and cramped bathroom: a shower, a toilet and a sink were all just about squeezed in back there. The right hand side, where Grace had headed, was her bedroom, which featured a large-for-a-single bed, a bookcase and some wardrobes. It wasn't much, but it was decent for a young professional or student like her, and was much nicer than the dingy studio she'd had last year. The only real thing she disliked about it was the no pets rule, but she was hoping she'd be able to afford somewhere with a garden for a cat or dog with her grant money next year. That was the dream she held in her mind when she felt terrible, as she did now, the dream of her own place with a garden and a fluffy friend. She did at least have an amazing master now though, she thought as he appeared through the door to the bedroom. Even if he wasn't fluffy, he made a fantastic cup of tea.

"Feeling better now?" he asked kindly as he handed her the warm mug.

"Yes, thank you," she replied, managing a smile. "Thank you baby, so much, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. Nobody's ever been able to help me like you can, nobody's ever 'got' me like you do, nobody has been able to get inside my crazy head and help me straighten things out so well before .Thank you."

"And thank you," he said back to her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead, "for letting me help you, and being a part of my life. I don't know what I'd do without you either."

"Well you'd probably get a lot more sleep and have a lot less stress without me," she giggled back, "things would be a lot easier."

"Well, where would the fun be in that?" He joked, plomping himself down of the bed by her side. "I wouldn't swap you for the world."

Whenever he was around, she instantly felt better. He always knew what to say, he was always happy to help, he never said it was too much. She'd neve met anyone like that before. Her ex's had dismissed her mental health as a problem for doctors to fix, not them, when she'd not been able to hide it from them. Her doctors and therapists had helped, sure, but they were always so impersonal: following checklists, asking set questions, singing papers and handing out pills for her to take so she might not be so crazy. It had been over a year since she'd last been signed off by a therapist, and god she was glad to see her go, she hated that woman. But since then things had been getting worse and worse. Stress was mounting, her last relationship fell apart terribly, her past kept flaring up in her memories. It was all getting too much. Grace's mental health was as bad as it had ever been. But in Alex she'd found the best help she'd ever had. And, as she explained all this to him, he sat and listened, nodding, holding her, wiping away her tears. And then they just sat for a long moment, in silence, drinking tea and enjoying the warmth of one another's body on this cold halloween night. Finally Alex broke the silence.

"So... what's with the sexy outfit, by the way?"

"Oh shit," Grace giggled, covering herself with her arms, "I'd forgotten I was wearing it! It...It's my halloween costume, I wanted it to be a surprise for you before the part tomorrow but... but I put it on and I just looked so awful. I looked like such a slut, a slut with terrible skin and scars and weird bny bits and and and I just... it just pushed me into this horrible panic attack... I' msorry that you had to come save me from myself over something so stupid."

"You never, ever have to apologise to me for your mental health, ever. No matter what caused it or how silly you feel, you never have to say sorry. And anyway, I think you look absolutely fucking gorgeous in that outfit."

"You really think so?" she replied, a slight smile appearing on her lips, as she unfolded her arms.

"God yes," he confirmed, "you look so fucking hot. If you don't like it, if you don't feel good in it, then that's totally fine. But I think you look amazing."

"You don't think it looks too slutty?"

"Well it's maybe a little more... enticing that what you'd normally wear out, but that's what halloween is for isn't it?" Alex laughed, "you definitely look like a treat!"

Grace couldn't help but laugh at that too. No matter how bad she felt, he always had a way of making her smile and feel good. "Well maybe I'll try it on for you tomorrow and see how I feel... if you like it so much... But right now I just wanna be cosy. Cover your eyes while I put my pyjamas on."

"Cover my...? Okay sure," Alex laughed, "let me know when you're all covered up again."

"Good boy," Grace giggled back, planting a kiss on his lips as she rolled over him and off the bed.

Always a man of his word, Alex kept his eyes covered as Grace slipped out of the lacy outfit one item at a time, and into something much more comfortable. As she crawled back up the bed, she kissed Alex on his lips and told him "okay, you can look."

When he opened his eyes, he saw her in a onesie, unzipped all the way down, hanging off her body as she knelt over him, hiding nothing from his view. His jaw dropped and his eyes lit up with admiration and lust, just as they always did when he saw her like this.

"Oh, oops!" she teased, looking down at herself, "I must have forgotten to zip it up... " Biting her lip, Grace ran her hands down her skin from her breasts, over her stomach, down to her hips. Slowly she grasped the zip, and with a little wiggle she closed it up to her neck, making sure Alex got to enjoy the view a long while as she did so. As the zipper reached the top of its run, she shifted her weight so that she could feel how hard he was in her jeans, and let out a teasing little giggle, pleased with herself that she'd managed to get him a little worked up even tonight. With another kiss, she flopped down onto the bed beside him, and rolled over so that he could wrap his arms around her.

"I'm exhausted," she sighed, settling easily into the soft bedding and the warmth of his arms.

"I bet," he replied softly, "I always am too after a panic attack. Get yourself to sleep, I'll stay here with you until I'm sure you're fast asleep, then I'll go home and get my tea and do my work.

"Are you sure? You don't need to stay here if you have things you need to do, I don't wanna keep you."

"There's nowhere in the world I'd rather be than with you," Alex reassured her, "goodnight baby."

"Mmm, thank you... Goodnight sweetie."

Day 8 - Friday

As the weak autumn sun again lit her flat, Grace slowly stirred from her slumber. As her eyes adjusted and her arms stretched out she was disappointed, but not surprised, that she was alone in her bed. "He's probably already at work... sucker," she thought to herself with a giggle. As she reached over to grab her phone from the bedside cabinet to see just what time it was, she found a handwritten note, in awful handwriting that could only be his. Flicking on a light to better illuminate the paper, she read:

"Hey kitten, good morning. I'm sorry I couldn't stay all night, I had to be at work for an 8 o'clock meeting this morning. But I stayed as long as I could, I was planning on heading home as soon as you were soundly sleep, but as soon as I got out of bed you started rocking and turning and muttering to yourself, so I crawled back in and wrapped you up again so that you wouldn't have nightmares, I know how bad you get them sometimes. I left at about 5 this morning, so that I could get home then to work on time, I hope I didn't wake you.

If you're feeling up to it, I'll see you at the party tonight, but if you don't want to go I'll absolutely not put any pressure on you at all. I love you so fucking much.

Alex"

His little notes never failed to make her smile, his words had amazing powers to calm or arouse, or both sometimes. For a moment she just lay there clutching the paper as a surrogate for him, smelling the scent of his aftershave still in her bed and the dent still in her pillows. It had only been about 5 waking minutes since she's been with Alex, but already she missed him. It was gonna be a long day.

Placing the letter down, she instead grabbed her phone and saw the time.

"Fuck!" She exclaimed, "I was meant to be in uni an hour ago!" For a moment she began to rush, her head swollen with guilt for oversleeping and worry about what she was missing. Her heart rate spiked, she felt herself teeter on the edge of another downward spiral, another panic attack approaching like a freight train ready to hit her as she dithered on the crossing. But she caught herself, Grace realised what was happening and took a deep breath, trying to slow her pulse and regain control of her mind. One bad episode normally lead to another, she reminded herself, and panicking will only make it worse. She was exhausted, and still overflowing with anxiety.

"I'm in no state to be going in today," she grumbled to herself, "I'll call in sick, I'm not going to learn anything like this anyway."

Exhausted still, but relieved not to be in class, Grace spent the day doing other productive things; cleaning the flat, sorting out the clothes that were still scattered around the flat from her outfit hunt, carefully washing all the marks that covered her body, thankful that Alex had been there last night to stop her adding more scars to her collection. "I don't know what I'd do without him," had been a regular thought in her mind the past month or two, and it was a question she genuinely didn't know the answer to. He was the only one who really understood her and was able to help - the few friends she still had were mostly clueless, either because Grace hid everything from them or because they had no idea about mental health, and her parents tried but Grace couldn't be totally open with them, they'd never think of her the same way if she was, she couldn't tell them everything. There was nobody who knew everything, nobody she'd ever felt she could be fully honest with, not even Alex yet, but he at least made her feel comfortable and confident in herself, which was better than anyone else ever managed. Confident enough, even, to go to the party, she had decided. Grace knew that she'd have to venture out if she wanted to make new friends, and that doing it with Alex would make her feel safest. So in the mid afternoon, she made the most of being home all day and began the long process of getting ready to look as gorgeous as she possibly could.