Hi guys!
So, um...yeah.
Please don't judge me or hate me for this. I wasn't prepared for this story to come out of nowhere like this either. I knew I wanted to post something up here since I haven't in a while, but I didn't think it would end up being so...dark. lol But...I thought it would be something interesting to try writing since I never seem to stray from the same old love and romance. So...here's me, writing out of my comfort zone.
Once more, PLEASE don't hate me for this! I love you guys SOOOOOOO so much. 3
Okay, I'm gonna let you guys read now and I'll cautiously stand to the side and wait for the knifes to be thrown at me. *Shutters*
I sat on the coffee table, legs crossed and wine bottle in hand as I stared at the cold body before me. Through my blurry, glassy eyes, I could barely make out the mop of blonde hair, now drenched in sweat and the inevitable. Scratches, scars, and whelps graced the face and skin of my blonde beauty. Blue, blood stained, quivering lips, slowly fluttering eyes, and shallow breaths were all signals of him being alive.
"J—James…" He whispered, staring up at me with hopeful eyes. I stared back, but refused to be enticed by his emerald irises once more. "James…I…"
More staring. More heartbreak. More silent goodbyes being exchanged. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out but a huge huff of air. I shook my head and looked down at my hands clutching the wine bottle: bloody and stained.
"I…I," he tried to continued, but failed to do so. He shivered, slowly freezing over.
"What is it?" I said coldly, clutching the bottle impossibly tighter.
"I…I love y-you." Tears streamed down the side of his face, slowly and weakly reaching his hand out for me. My left arm twitched to reach out for him, but the rest of me protested.
"I l-love y-ou James…" More shallow breathing. "So…so much."
More tears poured from my eyes and I noticed his breathing became slower. His eyes became extremely dreary. I couldn't take it.
But it didn't matter.
Before I could take a second glance, my blonde beauty was gone. Still, silent, and at peace – the job of the knife jabbed in his stomach and the man who carried out the deed.
"I loved you too." With that, I took another swig from the wine bottle.
Previously…
I stuffed popcorn into my mouth as I settled down into the recliner for the night, deciding that I would watch multiple reruns of The Walking Dead. Clad in sweats and a tank top, I prepared for a restless night, reasons more significant than others.
"Babe?" I looked up at Kendall, bright eyed and dimpled grin plastered on his face. I couldn't help but smile, but it unnoticeable faltered. "Which tie do you think I should wear? This one…" he said, holding up a peppermint green tie, "Or this one?" he said, holding up the other, dotted with black and brown.
"The black and brown one," I said, "Makes your eyes pop." I immediately turned back to the TV, stuffing more popcorn into my mouth. Kendall silently walked up behind the recliner, wrapping his arms around my neck.
"You gonna be okay here, alone?" he asked. I rolled my eyes, thankful he couldn't see. It wasn't like I hadn't done it before countless of times. Majority of times for reasons he didn't know I knew.
"Yeah, I'll be fine."
"You sure? I'll stay home tonight if you want." I knew he was bluffing…
"No, you go ahead. Your boss wants you there, so you go. Have fun." And I knew I was lying just as much as he was.
"Okay, babe. I won't be out too late though." He said before kissing my cheek. "I love you so, so much." My eyes became watery, but I forced the tears back.
"I love you too," I said, sighing and stuffing my mouth once more. He kissed my cheek one more time before skipping up the stairs to continue to get dressed for this boss' "party."
As pissed off as I was about the entire situation, I couldn't help but play as though I was completely oblivious. I knew.
This had been going on for the past six months. It started with him making secret phone calls to him getting home at two in the morning. Then it went to him claiming he had to work on his usual off days although his schedule had been the same for the past year and a half. He made up anything to get out of the house.
Gradually, I saw that it had a major effect on our love life. We fought at least fifteen times a week over the irrelevant, there were awkward silences, and he's barely let me touch him in the past couple of months. I thought, maybe I could change his mind about what he's doing by showing him what he'd be losing, but he didn't give me that chance. Now, I've pretty much gave up.
I knew exactly why he was all dressed up compared to all the other times he's dressed down for different occasions. I did my shameful daily routine of checking his phone every morning when he was showering.
It was his six month anniversary.
Not with me, but with Beau.
They had been planning what they'd do for their first anniversary for months: from the jet Beau would be flying him around in, to the roles and positions they would take on between the sheets. Beau planned a flight for them both, taking a course or two within the air, giving them the time to wine, dine, and just enough time for dessert before they thought I would become too suspicious by how late he was.
Five months too late.
"Alright babe," Kendall said, walking down the stairs, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "I'm on my way out. Don't wait up for me okay?" I nodded, never taking my eyes off of the TV screen. I heard him walk up to me once more. He lifted my chin up, forcing me to look into his emerald orbs before attaching his lips to mine. Our lips moved in perfect synced motion.
The downside was that it was emotionless; dead. The spark was long gone.
"Bye babe," he said, squeezing my shoulder before turning to leave out of the door.
"Bye," I responded, just as he closed the door behind him.
It was one in the morning.
He'd been gone for 5 hours.
I stood in front of the kitchen sink, both hands planted on the edges, my head hanging low above the water. My mind raced with images of Kendall and Beau together, hugging, kissing, fucking…
Just the mere thought of someone loving Kendall the way I should tore me to pieces.
Beau was rich, all money inherited from his family along with the extra money coming in from his business. He had good looks, the perfect body, and from what was explained by Kendall, everything I don't have. Everything he's always wanted that I was never able to provide. There was no debating that this man was better than me. Especially better than me in the department I should be the best at.
Keeping my own man happy.
Of the year and four months we've been together, I've failed to keep him happy and satisfied. I wasn't enough. I always had my suspicion, but never wanted to believe it. Everything had been great until I began to see the signs. From then on, everything's been cold. Everything became emotionless, from our hungry kisses to the intense sex we'd have on occasions, but it was just that. Hungry and intense. No feeling, no emotion, no remorse.
I guess he figured that since I was oblivious to his needs that I would be oblivious to what he'd been doing, but little did he know, I knew everything and like a love stricken idiot, I played as though I didn't know a thing.
Violently plunging my fists into the dishwater, I retorted in pain, examining the deep cuts that had been placed on my knuckles. Pulling the one and only knife out of the sink, I noticed the water turning bright red. Staring for at the water for a while, all I saw was red.
He was cold. Heartless.
Fuck him.
Fuck him, fuck Beau, fuck everything.
He was officially dead to me.
Examining the knife in my hand, I ran my fingertips along the sharp edge, ignoring the continuous bleeding from my knuckles. Sinful images ran across my mind, things I never thought I would do. I still didn't think I would do it, but despite the slight doubt, I washed the knife clean and dried it before cleaning my cuts and wrapping it with bandages. I sat at the island counter, staring at the knife before me, occasionally taking a drink out of the wine bottle I'd retrieved moments prior.
This was my escape.
No more lying. No more heartbreak.
Nothing.
"James, I'm home!" I gripped the wine bottle tight.
No more. I'm done.
So, um...yeah, that happened.
Once again, PLEASE don't hate me! I know it was dark and pretty cruel, but go listen to Justin Timberlake's song TKO and you'll understand why. Better yet, go watch the video. That REALLY shows you why. lol It's actually a REALLY good song. Like...I'm in love with it. :D
Anyways guys, I love you all and PLEASE review and tell me what you think! Review, Favorite, Alert me, and I love you all so much!
Did I mention that I love you guys? lol
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