He's hurt her one too many times, made too many promises he never could keep, and always seems to bring out the worst in the redhead.
Still, she lets him in when he knocks on her door at four in the morning.
He's sober, that's an improvement, but there's a glint in his eyes that lets Ellie know he's not here just to talk.
She should say no, she knows this too.
But he's Craig, and she's never been able to resist him.
His lips find hers quickly and he begins to peel back the layers she'd been building up against him; a battle she knew she'd lose the moment she set out to fight.
She wants to be angry, wants to break away and push him off and tell him he's no good for her, that he's toxic and weak and a fool. Ellie is the only true fool here. Instead, she pulls him closer.
His hands find her cheeks and suddenly they're back in the backroom of that bar. Craig kisses her for drugs, not because he loves her. Ellie should hate him.
She pulls off her shirt and tosses it aside.
Craig's lips begin to trail down the pale flesh of her body, across her chest and down lower, leaving little kisses here and there along her stomach. Eventually his lips find their way to her arms - they always do - and he begins peppering small kisses along her cuts.
Ellie wonders if he knows just how many of them belong to him? Does he realize all the pain he's caused her? Or is he as oblivious as she believes him to be?
How would he feel if she pushed him away? Slapped him across the face and pointed out each individual mark he left on her body. Ellie hopes he would cry, but he probably wouldn't. Craig doesn't feel the way Ellie feels. Craig wouldn't care.
His fingertips find her pants and he's quick to pull them down, her blue underwear included, and he throws them somewhere nearby her top.
Tonight will be quick, she realizes.
On most nights, he'll push her to her knees, open his pants, and give her his cock.
Not tonight, tonight he wants to fuck her and leave. Ellie obliges by pulling down his pants and underwear, too. They stay pooled by his feet.
He's fast to pull a condom from out of his pocket, and puts it on just as quickly. And then he's turning Ellie over onto her stomach, pressing her against the wall nearby her door, and he enters her with a quick, long thrust.
Ellie bites her lip to keep the groans at bay. She's wet, of course she's wet for Craig, so it doesn't hurt too badly. Still, it's uncomfortable while she adjusts.
Eventually things begin to feel good and he picks up pace, thrusting deeper and faster and gripping her hips with a ferocity Ellie knows will leave marks come morning. She doesn't mind, she never has.
When he fucks her from behind, Ellie wonders if it's because he can't stand to see her face. What will he see in her eyes? Resentment? Hatred? Or worse, love?
The room remains silent, save for the sounds of skin slapping skin.
Soon enough, Craig finishes and pulls out. Ellie doesn't orgasm, but it's fine. She's used to nights like these and her fingers work just as well as any boys cock ever could.
He tosses the condom in the trash and fixes himself, pulling up his pants and re-buttoning them.
Craig turns towards her, a grin on his face, and kisses her quickly on the cheek.
"I needed that," he offers sincerely. Ellie nods.
I didn't, she wants to tell him. Instead she smiles.
"See you tomorrow?" She sounds pathetic.
Craig shrugs. "You never know. Night, El." The door slams like the weight of a thousand ton of bricks falling on her chest. Ellie hates this, she hates it.
But she's never been able to resist Craig Manning.
She doesn't think she ever will.
