Ficlet: Every Day
by lucyolsen

Every day it's the same. He'll get into bed, naked, and I'll end up
wrapped around his hard body. I'll pretend I offer him some kind of
warmth, but I know he doesn't need it, at least not the kind I can
provide. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and many days to come, we'll
end up in all different kinds of positions.

Sometimes, he'll be upstairs, tired, and he'll fall asleep in his
chair. He doesn't miss me those days, like I do him, and it saddens
me to know that I'm just a passing thought of his, if and when he does
make it as far as the bed. I'm saddened that I'll be denied his
touch for the day, but I won't go to him, I just can't. I can't keep
doing this to myself. I know he'll never love me like I do him. We
just share the same bed, and that's all I can ever hope for. After
all, I'm just a sheet.

END

What I wanted to put as the summary, but realized it would ruin the ending:

"Spike's the object of desire...or is that the desire of an object?"