Disclaimer: I don't own anything…
Warning: This is nothing like my other fics… darker and quite 'angsty'… that's not even a word… but hey!
(o)Still fine-tuning the next chap of 'Retribution' and 'Caught in the Middle'… but like I said, this is nothing like those two… I gave tweaking a rest… wanted to go to yoga, but couldn't so this came about…
(o) You have been warned…
Aftermath and Early Mornings…
I wake up feeling sated… sated and sore. God, I was sore! But that was expected. Rough night… hmmm… wonderfully rough night… I shift over to the other side, hoping to find him. He wasn't there… he didn't stay… he never did. I sighed to myself and look up at my chipped ceiling, one of these days I'm going to get that fixed. Come to think of it, I need my whole apartment fixed…
There's just something about early mornings that make me itch for a stick… not that kind… I had my fill of that last night… Cigarettes. They were on my nightstand, among other things. I took one and lit it. They were my friends… crazy, I know. He never liked me smoking… kept telling me to stop. No, don't be mistaken that he cares about my health because he doesn't. He just didn't like the smell is all… egocentric bastard. Always about him… What he wanted…never about me… never…
I suck in a lungful of smoke… the nicotine entered my system. My lungs must be dying… much like me… all because of him.
Yes, I hate him… I hate all men… But whenever he comes, all my hate fades into oblivion. Don't try to make me explain. I never did understand it myself. All I know is that he satisfies me and apparently, I satisfy him. Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am…
I should feel mortified, but I don't… must be losing all my dignity. All because of him… Damn him! Damn everything!
There was an imprint of his head on my satin-covered pillow. His scent was strong… intoxicating… invigorating… Damn him again! I could still feel his callused hands on my body, his warm flesh against my own… Damn him to hell!
I try… I really do, but when I refuse him, even I don't believe my words… one night, I tried again. He was upset, I was unnerved… his eyes grew fierce. He wanted me… I wanted him… But I strived to save myself some dignity… No chance. My constant inner struggle with dignity and lust ended that night… The victor was obvious… My lust got the better of me. Or I might just call it love… Love? Yeah, right!
I sucked a lungful again… nicotine and tar, so good yet so bad… exactly like him and like chocolates… a guilty pleasure.
I contemplate on the word… Love… an emotion vaguely familiar to me. Then again, I found many things vaguely familiar… But that word, emotion, whatever… I don't understand it. I understand hatred so much more. I understood hatred more than anything else… next came pleasure. Hatred and pleasure along with cigarettes… my only friends…and maybe chocolate...
No, I don't love him… I loved his body and the pleasures his body brings me, but I could never love the man. Just like he could never love me… it was only lust. Only lust… My hunger for his body and his hunger for my own… Only a physical fulfillment… Lust…
Another lungful… I'm sorry dear vital organs, but I just can't resist.
Lust and love are two different things… at least I think so… but I don't love him… I think I don't. Scratch that. I know I don't… and I know he doesn't… I don't love him, but why does it hurt to know he doesn't? Hurt… I know that feeling, too… I might just add it to my short list of 'friends'… I've been feeling it lately. Screw him! Oh, yeah… I already did… I hate being hurt, who doesn't? I hate him for hurting me… I hate him for doing this to me… him… stupid… so stupid… hate him so much…
I crushed what's left of my cigarette… such beautiful embers in my ashtray… Cigarettes, like humans… we end up ashes… Sad. Yet another 'friend' I should add… Sadness and bitterness… they go well together. Bitter… Yes, I am bitter and I have very right to be. I hold up an imaginary goblet of champagne high in the air. A toast to new friends. Two new 'friends' in one day…
He had friends… quite a few actually. I don't know how he managed to snag friends, knowing he isn't really a sociable person… in fact, he was rather stoic, unfeeling, uncaring… But he had friends nonetheless… Who would have thought the bastard had friends? Not me that's for sure… Jealous? No… why should I be? I don't need friends… just acquaintances I can control and I have an ample amount of that. 'Friends'. The only friends I know are the inanimate… it's better that way.
I sat up, I can't quite walk yet; my legs still feel sore… I sighed again and closed my eyes… I hate early mornings just as much as I hate him… fuck him… fuck everything…
I hate those captivating Prussian orbs just one look in those depths and I'm lost… truly, helplessly lost… I hate him. I hate myself… Stupid Heero… stupid me… stupid, stupid me…
AN
Well… please review… kinda weird, isn't it? I told you so…
But please review it anyway…
Who's the girl? Think about it… lol…
Anyway… gotta get back to writing the next chaps while there aren't any games…
I wont be able to write if my SPURS loose… my poor, young heart wont be able to take it… I just can't… but they will win! I know they will! To the FINALS! CHAMPIONSHIPS, Yey!
And if you're wondering… The Body Farm is Patricia Cornwell book… really nice… Mystery/Suspense…
