Disclaimer: I own no one. I can only wish, but alas…
Chapter two
I'm lying in bed, hands folded behind my head, looking up at the window. I'd forgotten to close the curtains, and while it doesn't bother me now, I know I'll be pissed off in the morning when the sun says, "You're a little green army man and I'm shining a big, fat, annoying ray of light through a gigantic magnifying glass and you're gonna MELT BABY MELT!" followed by some maniacal laughing.
Thanks, Sun. I love you too.
Sighing, I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. As my feet hit the floor, my foot collides with something small and cold, sending it rolling across the hardwood. What was that? I slide down, crawling around on my hands and knees and trying to locate the object, but it's so damn dark I can't see a thing. I crawl over to the nightstand and flick on the light. In the far corner of the room, right by the leg of an armchair, something small and round glints in the dim light.
Crossing the room, I bend over to pick up the object before falling back into the chair. I lean back and close my eyes for a second before opening my fingers. I already know what it is, but… it can't hurt to look again, right?
It's a smooth round orb, kind of like a marble, about half an inch in diameter. A hole has been drilled right through the middle for threading. It used to be part of a necklace, but I don't know where the rest of it has gone.
It's not my necklace. It's Jeff's. And pieces of it are (presumably) lying around my bedroom because I broke it.
Who ever knows how arguments start? Personally, I think the best arguments are the ones that come out of nowhere. They jump out at you when you least expect it. Attack you when you least want to fight. They start off small and crescendo from mere words to a fist across the jaw, sending you sprawling over the bed. They pounce on you, straddle your hips and grab you around the throat, causing stars to dart in and out of your vision as you gasp for air.
Yes, Jeffrey. Hurt me, why don't you.
And what good is an argument if you don't retaliate? As much as you may want to just lie there and take it, it'll be over too soon if you don't fight back. Thrash your body against your attacker; try to throw him off. Strike at his head with your fists, claw at the hands around your neck. All but say, "Hurt me more. Show me your hate."
"Why… can't you… just open your eyes?"
What the hell did he want me to see? Or maybe he said it just to upset me. A burst of adrenaline allowed me to break the hold around my throat, and throw my body into him, sending us tumbling to the edge of the bed. Our positions changed and it was me straddling his hips, my hands flying through the air to land stinging blows to his face. At first he returned the favor, striking back just as hard, once hitting hard enough to daze me. In the brief moment I hesitated, he reached up and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling me down so forcefully I lost my balance and fell to the bed beside him. We continued to struggle, rolling up to the top of the bed. His foot nearly hit my lamp. My hands clawed at his face, but before I could reach his eyes my wrist was seized and slammed back against the headboard so hard a four-inch black and purple bruise appeared on my arm the next day.
"Fuck, Jeff!"
And then he was on me, sitting on my torso, almost stretched full-length on top of me, my arm still wretched painfully upwards and pinned against the headboard. His mouth closed over mine and I lost the fight from my limbs almost immediately. Fuck. He broke the kiss, pulling away, his eyes bright with delicious malice.
"I know you want it…" he growled into my ear, causing my body to arch up against his. "Just how I want you." His tongue snaked out, lightly running along my earlobe before he straightened, sitting up. I only had a split second to stare at him, wide-eyed, before he raised his free hand and brought it down hard across my face. My anger reawakened, my arm darted out to grab the first thing I could – the necklace hanging from his neck. My fingers wrapped around the beaded pendant, twisted the black cord, and pulled. His head jerked forward; I caught his lips in a fervent – if not a bit desperate – kiss as I gave one last pull. I felt the leather cord straining – probably painfully – against Jeff's neck, until it snapped. At the same time, the hand tightening around my wrist finally let go.
From there, I don't remember the details, or I've been repressing or something. In fact, I'm pretty damn surprised I remembered what I did so vividly, just from looking at a piece of glass. Glancing up at the bed, for a moment I can see us tangled in the sheets… the necklace falling to the floor with a clatter as somebody's foot swept past it. Then I blink and we're gone.
…Get up, close the curtains, turn off the light and go to bed. And most of all, stop thinking about the past. It happened a long time ago. Jeff probably doesn't even remember it. You didn't even remember it, until now.
With a resigned sigh, I stand up to yank the curtains shut. One of the hooks gets stuck and I use both hands to pull it free. In doing so the bead slips from my hands and drops, rolling back towards the bed. I make a motion to catch it – but stop and decide to just watch it roll away, watch as it reflects the dim light of the lamp, watch as it winks at me one last time before disappearing into the shadows.