Chapter Six
Ex Sex
Bulma grinned gently at the man sitting across from her, she had her Vegeta and she wanted to keep him, too. The reality was she didn't have him. She could never have him, but she wanted him. She wanted him so bad she could taste him, and he tasted good.
"Vegeta?" she inquired softly around a bite of her breakfast.
He gave a grunt, his coal eyes focusing on her.
"I'm going to rape you."
He blinked rapidly. She was going to what? Rape him? You sure as hell can't rape the willing. DIRTY THOUGHT! Bad Vegeta, bad! He groaned softly.
"It's a promise."
That sealed the deal.
It was a week later when Bulma had walked in on the most horrifying and heartbreaking scenes of her life. Vegeta's ex was back in town, he was smitten, and they were having what appeared to be rough, hot sex. On her couch. There were a few muttered "Oh shits" and other such curses though most were from Bulma freaking out and hopping into her car as quickly as possible. Her car drove headfirst off a bridge and into the Lovers River, so named for the high number of suicides by lovers and what have you.
Luckily, for Bulma, it had just been a dream, but Vegeta's ex was back in town and he no longer spent his lunch hour with Bulma. Ever. She felt the rejection, the unspoken but loud rejection of love lost. She felt her heart pop inside her chest and shrivel to the size of an electron. She stopped actively seeking his friendship or anything else he had to offer if she could help it. However, that didn't make the hurt go away. It made the hurt worse. She found out at work just how much it hurt.
"Did you hear? Vegeta and Regina got back together!" one of the gossipers nearly yelled at Bulma as she walked into the coffee room.
"He's only my neighbor. They have sex a lot," she said as she filled her morning cup of crack cocaine. Coffee, I meant coffee.
"I heard he's gonna propose!"
"I heard she's pregnant!" giggled another.
"I heard he dumped Bulma flat for her!" said a male co-worker.
Bulma cringed but made no noise.
"Bulma and I never dated, we were only friends," came Vegeta's voice.
She felt her heart skip a beat. "Only friends . . . friends . . . friends . . ." it echoed in her head, and it hurt.
"Tell 'em Bulma."
Vegeta's voice was pleading.
"Only friends," she said with a slight frog in her throat.
She quickly let herself take leave from the conversation, a Vegeta who was not concerned stayed behind to gossip about his new girlfriend. New old girlfriend. She sighed as she took her seat at her desk, her coffee cup thunking solidly onto the desk, as well as several tears. That day, her work was completely half-assed.
She has thought on the night he had helped her, the one selfless act he bestowed upon her had helped them grow closer but she was wrong. And. . . And the night of this kiss! The night she admitted everything she had felt over the years for him. They . . . they added up to nothing. They meant nothing.
When she returned home that night she left a message on his machine and slit her wrists as she soaked in a tub of warm water. Damn liars. Warm water did not make the pain of being cut open any duller than staying dry did.
Dry, cutthroat humor 'til the end.
It's been a while. I'm still here. Sorta. Hope you enjoyed this. It was months in the making.
Love ya!
POAS
Ex Sex
Bulma grinned gently at the man sitting across from her, she had her Vegeta and she wanted to keep him, too. The reality was she didn't have him. She could never have him, but she wanted him. She wanted him so bad she could taste him, and he tasted good.
"Vegeta?" she inquired softly around a bite of her breakfast.
He gave a grunt, his coal eyes focusing on her.
"I'm going to rape you."
He blinked rapidly. She was going to what? Rape him? You sure as hell can't rape the willing. DIRTY THOUGHT! Bad Vegeta, bad! He groaned softly.
"It's a promise."
That sealed the deal.
It was a week later when Bulma had walked in on the most horrifying and heartbreaking scenes of her life. Vegeta's ex was back in town, he was smitten, and they were having what appeared to be rough, hot sex. On her couch. There were a few muttered "Oh shits" and other such curses though most were from Bulma freaking out and hopping into her car as quickly as possible. Her car drove headfirst off a bridge and into the Lovers River, so named for the high number of suicides by lovers and what have you.
Luckily, for Bulma, it had just been a dream, but Vegeta's ex was back in town and he no longer spent his lunch hour with Bulma. Ever. She felt the rejection, the unspoken but loud rejection of love lost. She felt her heart pop inside her chest and shrivel to the size of an electron. She stopped actively seeking his friendship or anything else he had to offer if she could help it. However, that didn't make the hurt go away. It made the hurt worse. She found out at work just how much it hurt.
"Did you hear? Vegeta and Regina got back together!" one of the gossipers nearly yelled at Bulma as she walked into the coffee room.
"He's only my neighbor. They have sex a lot," she said as she filled her morning cup of crack cocaine. Coffee, I meant coffee.
"I heard he's gonna propose!"
"I heard she's pregnant!" giggled another.
"I heard he dumped Bulma flat for her!" said a male co-worker.
Bulma cringed but made no noise.
"Bulma and I never dated, we were only friends," came Vegeta's voice.
She felt her heart skip a beat. "Only friends . . . friends . . . friends . . ." it echoed in her head, and it hurt.
"Tell 'em Bulma."
Vegeta's voice was pleading.
"Only friends," she said with a slight frog in her throat.
She quickly let herself take leave from the conversation, a Vegeta who was not concerned stayed behind to gossip about his new girlfriend. New old girlfriend. She sighed as she took her seat at her desk, her coffee cup thunking solidly onto the desk, as well as several tears. That day, her work was completely half-assed.
She has thought on the night he had helped her, the one selfless act he bestowed upon her had helped them grow closer but she was wrong. And. . . And the night of this kiss! The night she admitted everything she had felt over the years for him. They . . . they added up to nothing. They meant nothing.
When she returned home that night she left a message on his machine and slit her wrists as she soaked in a tub of warm water. Damn liars. Warm water did not make the pain of being cut open any duller than staying dry did.
Dry, cutthroat humor 'til the end.
It's been a while. I'm still here. Sorta. Hope you enjoyed this. It was months in the making.
Love ya!
POAS