That's all it is.
No feelings, no attachments.
Nothing.
An alleyway, public bathrooms. Wherever necessary or convenient. Using each other over and over again in silence, then leaving to go about our lives as normal but, one day this will end.
I'm going to enjoy every second until it finally does. Wanting more, always wanting more.
The pain and the pleasure ebbing through me until it finishes, he disgusted look on his face as he leaves me: crumpled, and dirty. I want more, but it always ends. One day forever.
I want him. I need him.
Sometimes it hurts, then again, sometimes it doesn't. When it doesn't hurt, when he's more gentle, careful with me that's when the pain comes. It's cold and it twists my heart. He hates me. I'm worse than dirt to him, maybe if things had worked out differently maybe, just maybe, this might not happen. Or if it did, would he care about me?
Would I care?
I don't want to feel this way, not about him. We're supposed to hate each other. And I guess I do. I hate him for making me feel this, I hate him for being able to make me melt with one look, I hate the way my heart skips when he holds me between his arms in the buzz we get as we both lower from our highs.
I don't pine for him, and I don't mope about the house waiting for something from him: a phone call, a text, or a yell from the street. I catch myself at work suddenly thinking about hot breathing on my neck, a soft grunt in my ear, his fingers lacing through my hair, and pain fills my chest.
I hate him. I really do.
But...
I love him.
I'm in love with a monster.