He never called her beautiful, which seemed fine to her. He was the only one that talked in their relationship. One day she had tried to share her opinion but was slapped across her face for her effort. For the rest of the week she had a bruise but make-up was a glorious thing. Although most would be disheartened after such a painful silence, Maria never stopped trying. Wasn't she supposed to try to make things right? Wasn't she supposed to try to make him happy?

Everyone had told her wrong.

"You have to know how to treat a guy. Do little things to show him you care," her older cousin had told her once. They were in a dark corner when it came to mind. "Do little things". They had been kissing for a good ten minutes, silent and furious, when the smallest thing she could take care of announced itself. He was so focused on their involvement that a lock of blonde hair had fallen in front of his eye. It seemed so sweet, and it seemed so innocent. Maria still couldn't understand what was so wrong about brushing it back behind his ear or letting her fingertips travel along the side of his neck. His grip on her shoulders tightened. "Stay still."

She willingly obeyed but he was done with her a few minutes later.

Why was she back then? This meeting had no more class than the last ones. They had met in the most unusual, possibly unsanitary, places but they all ended the same. Every thing he touched was toxic. Her instructions were simple: get to the room and sit there. Maria was always the one left waiting, and she did so without complaints. No one wanted to see a depressed girl on the other side of the door. There was no greeting when the door opened. Her blue-green eyes sparkled as she looked at him but he didn't acknowledge her presence in any way. Only when he turned to her and undid his belt did she know without a doubt that he knew she was there.

This time is different, she thought. She always thought. But it all felt the same when her knees were apart and when he plunged himself to his limit. It was always just his limit. Every time he had the same sneer on his face. Stress was always what she blamed. "Life never gives you what you expect," she thought. He wasn't gentle or loving. In his eyes she did not have needs. Maria was a living, breathing doll to him. He showed her no more compassion than he showed a scrap of plastic.

Reality pushed her out of her fantasy world, but it must have been hard for her to get her feet back on the ground. He was more tense than ever, much to Maria's interest. Sadly, she wanted what she would not be getting. When he came, she was sure he would tell her he loved her. Instead he rolled off her and onto his back. Without her own desires taken care of she looked over at him as he laid on his back. That was it.

Maria inched closer to curl up against him. Would he let her sleep? Would he push her away? Or would he pull her closer? "Go get cleaned up. We both have places to be." He left her staring wide-eyed as he pulled his jeans on and rolled out of the bed.

"Adam?" She asked as she pulled the sheets closer. Their eyes met for one of the few moments. He was standing by the doorway with his wallet in his hand. He had set down two twenty dollar bills right beside the lamp. "Nothing." He didn't give it a second thought.

Everyone was right. She was a stupid girl.