Lipgloss and Cologne


Author's note(s): I really love the feedback, guys. It's totally awesome to have people like "love it!" I'm trying not to complain, but, next time you drop a review, can you give me constructive critism? I'd really like it, and for the last half, I want to make it the best drabble story you have ever read. Thank you tons! And ideas and suggestions would be pretty awesome, too! Thank you, lovers!

P.S: the italics are a flashback. :)

Trust, 52.


The taste of salt was lingering in Lily's mouth. She stared at the open door, the cold November wind sliced through her pyjamas. She looked like a wreck. She didn't care. She ran through the door, trying to find traces of the man she wanted to cuddle.

She fell into the crunchy leaves, digging her hands into the soil under it. She stared at the stars, cursing them for their perfection. Why couldn't she have the perfection that the twinkly balls of diamond. She remembered James once saying he wished he could giver her the stars.

James. Proof that nobody could ever live together forever, when he obviously thought she didn't trust him. She did, and it was hard, because she trusted him with more than her life. She married him for that reason. And unconditional love. Where is that lately? Nobody is staying together. Including them.

Why, oh why did she have to clean under the bed? Why couldn't she let the dust bunnies live, and thrive in their little caverns of dirt? She sighed, and rolled over in the leaves. She stared at the moon. She was sure the man in the moon was laughing at her. He was pointing his fingers at her. Calling her a suspicious fool. It wasn't her fault! She found the bra that she was certian didn't belong to her. She didn't own a red bra. She thought they were for vamps.

"James?" Lily called him into the room. He walked in. Lily held up a silk bra, raising one eyebrow. James faltered. He looked upset.

"That's not mine." He said, defending himself badly. Lily sneered.

"Obviously, you don't wear them. The question is, whose is it?"

"I don't know!"

"Of course you do, James, don't lie to me!"

"I'm not lying! I don't know who owns it!" James held up his hands, signifying truth. Lily shook her head, her tears falling rapidly.

"How do I know?" She asked through tears. James rubbed his temples with his fingers, closing his eyes.

"Because, you can trust me."

"I know! But, who owns this?!" Lily cried, throwing the bra at James.

"Lily! Fine, if you don't trust me, what do we have?" James sneered, and walked swiftly out the door.

Which leaves Lily with the question: who owns it?

She curled into a ball, and cried to sleep in the cold outdoors.

Who to trust these days...