So, this may be the most depressing thing I've ever written. I highly advise that you listen to Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love" on repeat while you read, because that's the song I listened to while I wrote it and it's pretty much the prompt.
Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. You wouldn't believe me if I did, anyway.
Note: Clare and Eli are both OOC – but that's the point of fan fiction, so I don't wanna hear any complaints. Also, this is strictly a one-shot. There will be no follow-up, no part two – however you wanna say it, there won't be one, lol. Sorry.
XxX
Need The Pain
XxX
It was roughly two in the morning when my phone vibrated softly at my bedside, interrupting my slumber. My hands grabbed for it greedily and a lump grew in my throat. I knew who it would be, and what they would say; yet I was still anxious. The dim light illuminated my bare, beige walls and my eyes squinted instinctively in reaction to the change as I read the text message from him.
Coming over. Be there in ten.
My grin stretched from ear to ear and I jumped out of bed to make sure that my apartment was decent. As I strolled out of my bedroom and down the hallway, I picked up disorderly mail, clothes and my keys, putting them in their respectful places.
After, I brushed my teeth and quickly changed out of my sweatpants. I slid a silky, pale pink dress over my slender form and double-checked myself in my body-length mirror.
If Ali knew what I was doing right now, she'd have a stroke. I could almost hear her protective words coaxing me out of my twisted lifestyle. But it would never work, much to her disappointment. It doesn't matter how many lectures I get from Ali, Darcy, or even Adam.
I'm always going to let him in.
I'm always going to watch him leave.
There was a quick and impatient rap at the front door, and I remembered that I must have forgotten to unlock it for him. I slid down the hallway again and stopped at my door, turning the lock. The second that I opened it, he pushed himself through and into my home with ease.
"Eli," I breathed with a smile that I couldn't control.
He smelled like cheap liquor and cigarette smoke. His hands were stuffed deep inside of his pockets, and his hair was sticking to his forehead. It hit me then that he must have gotten caught in the rain, and I immediately pushed him back towards my room.
"Here, you have some clothes that you left here. I'll throw those in the dryer," I prattled while I began to dig through my wardrobe, opening and closing drawer after drawer.
Suddenly, a strong hand gripped my waist and spun me around. I gasped, placing my dainty hands on Eli's chest. "Hey," he mumbled. "Don't worry about my clothes."
His speech was slurred; his balance was off, but his eyes…
When I looked into his eyes, I still saw Elijah Goldsworthy. And I still fell hard for him, and I still let him use and abuse me, and I still loved him. As long as I looked into his eyes and saw everything that I knew and loved and aimed for in life reflecting back into mine, I'd continue letting this sick, twisted and deranged relationship blossom.
Except to an outsider looking in, our relationship probably looked more like a weed.
Everything that was floating through my mind was put to a halt when his mouth attached to mine. He wasted no time and I immediately felt his eager tongue dipping into my mouth. It explored what it already knew, but I welcomed every moment of it. His tongue was strong and soft and tasted like tobacco.
Fingertips trailed across skin and clothing was left forgotten on my floor. Within seconds, our naked bodies were pressed against each other while we sunk into my oversized bed.
My lips were trapped between his, his teeth gliding along my flesh sloppily.
"Haven't heard from you in a couple days," I muttered quietly.
"Busy," he answered simply, burying his face into the crook of my neck. His tongue darted out and moistened my skin before he sucked on it with vigor. My neck felt wet and warm – but it was all Eli, therefore it was amazing. I could hear him suckling hard, trying to get me into the mood that he so desperately needed me to be in.
Great, another hickey that I'll have to explain to Ali.
"Busy? Like how?" My fingers danced lightly against his scalp, toying with his thick, dark hair.
Maybe I desperately needed him, too.
He grunted in irritation. "That's my business, Clare." His lips vibrated against my neck and the words sunk into my body, cutting into my heart. How was it possible for four simple words to sting so much?
I pulled my fingers out of his locks and rolled my eyes in the dark. He hadn't told me a single thing about himself in forever. But would that stop me from doing all of this?
Never.
"Ready?" He asked without actually caring. Regardless, I gave him a soft nod, expecting him to enter me. I was surprised, however, when he rolled us over – with me on top – and said, "Could you go down on me? You haven't in a while."
I stared at him, wide-eyed and completely humiliated.
"Is that all you want?" I whispered.
His dark laugh bounced off of my walls and stung my ears. "No! If I just wanted my dick sucked, I would've found someone to do it at the bar."
I flinched and decided that there was no point in arguing with him. I slid down until I reached his member, which was already at attention, waiting for some attention. My head lowered to meet it, but before I even had the chance, Eli's hand pushed my head down and onto him.
I gagged around his length and pulled up to breathe.
"Is there a problem?" Eli asked with a sneer.
My bottom lip trembled (not that I expected him to notice) and I shook my head vigorously, my curls bouncing sadly.
Again, I lowered myself to take him into my mouth. I continued to slide him down my throat until I couldn't fit anymore, and I worked my way back up slowly. My small hand slid up and down his hard cock three times to moisten what I couldn't get to with my mouth.
With the tip of my tongue, I traced a thin line, from the under-base of his member, along the most sensitive vein. Once I reached his head, my soft tongue danced circles around his tip before dipping into his slit.
Eli hissed and gripped my hair tightly, moaning incoherently.
I took him into my mouth once more, as much as I could, and bobbed my head at an erratic pace. Precum began to spill into my mouth and I smiled around his length. His breathing got choppy; I knew that if I kept this up, he'd explode in no time.
His hips rose off of the bed when I cupped his balls. I held them in my palm and massaged them gently with my thumb, just waiting to gauge his reaction. When I felt Eli twitch in my mouth, I pulled away, letting my teeth tickle him softly.
I sucked hard on his head knowing that he was almost at his peak.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" he panted.
Eli came hard and hot into my mouth, a surprise to both of us. Usually, I move and let him release himself on my stomach or chest, but this time I didn't react fast enough! His eyes were wide, so he apparently liked it.
I then decided to up the ante and do something that I'd never done before – just to please Eli.
His jaw nearly fell off when I swallowed his spunk in one gulp. I was shocked to find that it tasted somewhat sweet and salty. Maybe that was only because it was Eli, because I certainly didn't see myself doing that for anyone else, ever.
A little bit drizzled out of the corner of my mouth and I used my index finger to wipe it up and sucked it off of my finger hungrily. I looked Eli in the eye and smirked, licking my lips seductively.
He had me pinned under him - my stomach flat on the bed – so fast; I didn't even see it happen.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he growled into my ear.
I turned my head uncomfortably and grinned at him brightly. "Can't wait." My lips searched for his in the dark and he pulled away instantly.
"Clare, you just swallowed."
"So?"
"So? I don't wanna kiss you."
My eyebrows pulled together and my eyes watered briefly. He sounded so nonchalant about the whole situation! I just wanted to make him happy, and I know he liked it – but suddenly he couldn't kiss me?
I screamed out when Eli slammed into me without warning. He sat up on his knees and raised my hips to his level while I moaned into the mattress.
Every time that I tried to get up onto my elbows, they gave out on me. There was no point. His thrusts were getting harder and harder and his fingers gripped my hips with aching force.
"Eli! Ohhh. Not so hard," I breathed. "Please."
He completely ignored me and began to pound into me harder. With time, I got used to his force and started to enjoy myself. There was a familiar heat building in my abdomen and I was begging for its release.
Eli, as usual, was only looking out for himself, so it was up me. My fingers found my clit and I rubbed it hard and fast, switching between tight circles and figure eights periodically.
I knew that my love was once again close to his release because he fisted his long fingers through my hair, pulling it hard to hear me scream out in pain.
To scream out in pleasure? The line isn't always so easy to distinguish with Elijah.
What most normal people with an ounce of self-respect would find offensive, repulsive and sick, I tended to be drawn to – as long as it involved Elijah Goldsworthy. Because like I had mentioned before: I'm always going to let him in. I am always going to watch him leave.
But while he slammed his now quivering cock into me, there were only three sounds swimming around inside of my bedroom.
My pants and moans.
Our bodies slapping together violently.
Eli shouting Julia's name…
I froze like a deer in headlights when Eli came inside of me, pumping a few more times for good measure, I suppose. Had he even realized what he'd said?
Our sticky bodies peeled apart and Eli crawled off of my bed to locate his boxers and jeans before almost running to my bathroom. While he was cleaning up, I willed myself not to cry and it took everything I had to fight the tears away.
It didn't matter how many times I'd heard her name fall from his lips while he came. It was like a slap in the face each time. And I couldn't shake the feeling that there was some connection to Eli yelling out for his dead girlfriend – who died like six years ago, may I add – and the fact that he would only take me from behind.
Eli walked back into my room, his eyes downcast. "Did you, uh, say you have a dry shirt of mine for me to wear?"
Why did I love him? I would pour my blood out for the man, and all I wanted was for him to feel the same way about me.
"Uh huh," I nodded, pushing back the ache in my throat. I couldn't let my walls down in front of him. If I cried, he might not come back.
I wrapped my sheet around my body loosely and stalked over to the dresser, opening the top drawer to grab a black v-neck that he'd left about two weeks prior. I watched him slip it on and noticed the way that it hugged his hard chest.
"Thanks," Eli mumbled. "I'm gonna head out." He took a tentative step towards me and pressed his lips against my forehead so lightly that I couldn't even feel them. "Text you later, I guess."
I was used to the lack of eye contact by that point.
My eyes followed the man clad in black as he stumbled out of my apartment. Eli was the man who held my heart, my virginity, and my self-respect. Nobody understood why, but I didn't care what he or she said. I was going to keep living my life the way I wanted to, and if that meant letting my first and only love walk all over me like a doormat, then so be it.
There was a light blue t-shirt, drenched from the rain, laying on my floor in a crumbled mess. He'd left it behind, probably for me to wash.
I grabbed the garment and dropped my bed sheet, letting it gather at my feet. I stood alone in my dark bedroom; naked, cold and alone.
I brought the fabric to my face and inhaled the stale whiskey, cigarettes and rain lovingly before sliding it over my head. With that, I took one last look in my full-length mirror for the night and sighed at my reflection.
Who would have thought that I'd be here at 21? I could try with everything I had to live a normal life that didn't involve my impromptu highs-school love-interest, but I never felt complete until he was in me.
When he left, I was an empty shell, a lifeless corpse.
I fell to the cold ground and curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. My face was buried into my chest, inhaling Eli with every shaky breath while the tears that I fought away for an hour finally danced down my porcelain cheeks.
But it was okay. He'd be back.
I will always let Elijah Goldsworthy in.
And I will always have to watch him leave.
What do we think, guys? Hit or miss? I personally like it, but I'd love to hear your opinions, so be sure to review! Also, feel free to follow me on Twitter InsightDelight. I'll follow you, too, and maybe we can have an awesome conversation about something totally irrelevant, lol.