-Ben-
I felt like a whore.
A filthy filthy whore.
He used me.
Even after I told him I loved him. After I poured the very essence of my soul infront of him.
And he just walks away.
Just.
Walks.
Away.
I sat up in bed, nude as the day I was born. It had been too hot to wear even the slightest garment of clothing, underwear included. But my pallet was dryer than Gwen's sense if humor, and my esophagus felt as if it had been reduced to dust. I sauntered to the bathroom, thanking the gods that my parents were away on business, which meant anonymous foursomes with Random couples they met on the internet.
Ew.
Why did I have to think about that?
Anywho, I'm bout to shank whoever's blowing up my phone.
And fantastic, it's Argit.
-Argit, what do you want?- I asked, pausing and downing my third cup of water.
-I need you to do me a favor.- he stated bluntly, making me roll my eyes.
-And what in the name of god makes you think that I should do you and your dirty ass a favor?- I asked, inadvertently cocking out my hip.
-I have something that can ease your depression.-
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
-Kevin informed me that you were depressed, he didn't tell me about what, but he told me you had gone through some shaky shit and maybe needed some antidepressants.-
Take drugs from Argit?
Hell no.
-No deal.- I seethed deeply through the receiver. My eye was twitching again, and I really wanted to throw my phone across the kitchen.
Kevin needs to be served the steaming nutritious plateau of omnipresent rainbow horse-shit he so desperately deserves.
-Can I at least drop off the package?- Clearly the only way Argit was going to leave me be to my berating thoughts of Kevin, was to permit him to leave this package. Which was a loose loose situation, because I have to put on clothes, and I have to face the demon otherwise known as Kevin.
Fuck.
Around thirty minutes later, I had put on clothes, and Argit scampered to the door, a small cardboard box and a brown paper bag nestled in his gray arms. Though he gave me a smile, I remained indifferent and took the packages. "The stuff in the bag s'for you." he seethed devilishly, then scampered of in a unknown direction. I peered within the confines of the paper bag, the yet again berated myself as I threw the bag full of Anti-Depressants and various other medications and pills across the room. I sighed for what seemed the umpteenth time today, and slumped back into the couch, sprawling out and letting my right hand rest over my eyes. I remained like this for a good while, then jumped around fifteen feet in the air when my phone went off. It was a message from Kevin, telling me to have his shit ready. This time I cocked my hand back, and sent my phone sailing to the kitchen, it hitting the wall and falling onto the stove.
I genuinely didn't give a damn.
He was in the house now, doing that thing were he didn't care a fucking bit about how the people around him felt. He looked at me, then grimaced. And yet still, I found his eyes raking my body. First my face, which was still cleverly hidden below my hand. Then my exposed torso and my hips, my shoulders and neck still marked with his bites and hickeys, and my upper and lower hips laden with the fingernail marks. He groaned.
"It's on the kitchen counter." I stated bluntly, my hand still on my face.
"Damn, what the hell s'wrong with you?" I heard him mumble, and that's when all voices of reason went out the window.
"What the hell is wrong with ME?" I sprang up off the couch, ready to emasculate, humiliate assimilate, and kill.
"You're acting like this entire ordeal is my fault!" he retorted, his brow creasing in anger. He grasped the granite countertop, his fingers pressing down hard on the surface.
"You seduced me!"
"I WAS DRUNK!"
"YOU SAY THAT LIKE IT JUSTIFIES EVERYTHING!" I responded. He made a face, that silently said I have nothing else to say. He grabbed the box and walked towards the door.
"And he just walks away!" I said loud enough so he could hear, flailing my arms in the air for good dramatic measure.
He turned to me again. The face wrinkling into and even more pissed mask. "You act like this is what I wanted!" he yelled again, squeezing the doorknob.
"If it wasn't what you wanted," I said. "Then why did you do it Kevin?" I gave him that look, knowing that he couldn't respond to that with any plausible answer. He tried to say something but couldn't. Knowing that I used it like a knife and stab him right in the neck with it. He approached me, and set his hand on my shoulder, but I felt a rush of wav over me and and I shook it off and swung it at his face.
I knew I didn't hit him.
His hand was wrapped around my limber wrist. His reflexes were really fast. Must be all that time on the street.
Be gave me a look that I assumed was a cross of pity, anger, and remorse. His eyes said so much. So much, I couldn't even tell what he was trying to say. Then that feeling came over me again. My eyes began to well up with tears, and even though I tried my hardest not to collapse on his big chest and bawl like the child I felt like, I did.
I cried and and cried and cried. I clung to his chest and just let each and every ounce of pent up emotion and pain out on his black shirt. He didn't say a thing, not a word escaped his lips. He only rubbed small circles in my back, that made me want to be here forever.
"Goddamit kevin." I said, wiping tears from my cheeks. "What do you want."
He looked at me, gazing into my emerald eyes, and I peered into his dark brown ones. And it was back. That spark, that feeling that was so irresistible, that nagged at the back of ones skull. We seemed to get closer, and closer, until our lips met.
I pretended not to watch him leave, watch him slide that shirt over those rippled shoulders, and pull those jeans over that great ass. He did have a great ass. And yet, in lieu of all of this turmoil, I still loved him.
Nothing would ever stop that.
Nothing.
I heard the door close, a tad surprised at his courteous ways. I sighed, and rolled over int the bed, which reeked with the musk of sweat and satisfaction.
My stomach plummeted again, feeling a sheet of sadness cover my insides. That filthy feeling was back. The nagging at the back of my head saying that he's using me, and I'm just another one of his whores.
The face of the Ultamatrix lit up, momentarily shifting from my brooding.
"Master," I slurpy flinched as the machine spoke, scared out of my mind, but piqued enough not to scream like a little girl. "You and the osomosian, you have feelings for one another, do you not?"
I raised an eyebrow at the machine, "I'm not going to pry into your personal business," the thing echoed, the face glowing with each uttered word.v "I am however considered with your psychological health on the object." "I don't exactly understand what is happening between the two of you, but I do know that whats happening, has no good conclusion."
I frowned as the machine powered off, not letting me get my word in. Sighing, I rolled from bed, and picked up the anti-depressants from the small paper bag.
I didn't exactly want to, but I needed it before I fell into a slump that would consume me.
I popped the little blue pills from the orange cylinder, and knocked them back dry.
Within a few minutes, everything was...
Smooth and sublime.
Read and review, sorry for the shittiness of this part, really sorry. I wanna know what you think of Ben and the pills