A/N Disclaimers are in Part 1, and this part's from Riff's POV. I'm still in desperate needing of a title…….hint hint! But anyways, on with the fic!
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When I woke up the next morning, I automatically reached out for her. My hand patted the other side of the bed trying to find her. When I found her side of the bed empty and cold, it woke me up slightly more. I shook my head to dull my headache slightly, and then opened my eyes. No, she definitely wasn't in bed. Not even in the bedroom.
I slung my legs off the bed and gently stood up. I wobbled slightly, but managed to make my way to the closet. When I threw it open, I found her side almost empty. I was enraged. I threw on my robe and stormed downstairs. When I got to kitchen, I found a note written in her familiar loopy handwriting.
Dear Riff,
It started off so formal, so detached. But what did I expect? "Dearest Riffy?"
I'm sorry, but I had to leave. I just can't stay here anymore. I love you, I love you so much I can't even begin to describe it. But I can't take any more of this. Move on. Get along without me.
Magenta
My hands shook, both with anger and with sadness. "I'm SORRY?" how could she even have the nerve to apologize about what she did? And then she claims that she loves me? I was ready to rip the note in half.
I stormed into the living room. But when I looked down at the carpet, I began to realize why she left. The luscious beige padding was covered with the all-too-familiar red-brown specs of blood. Had I really done that to her?
My head fell into my hands. I had done that to her. That was her blood on the carpet. The blood that fell because of me. I was a poor excuse of a lover, and an even poorer excuse of a man.
But I could never get along without her. I needed her. She was my life. What possessed me to attack her? I had always used the excuse that I loved her too much. I loved her so much that I smothered her, I didn't let her do anything. But if I really loved her, then why would I beat her?
I got up from the couch, and as I walked out of the living room, the lump in my throat growing. I tried to fight it down. I tried to stop the tears from falling. But even all my willpower couldn't stop it. As I walked back to the bedroom, each step was marked with a teardrop, and a memory.