There was a horrible pain from my head as I lay motionless on the mattress. I was in Falco's room again. I swore that this wouldn't happen again. I mean, why would I do this after all the problems we had the first time?
Because I love him. I hate to admit it; but, I do love him. I'm a moron for ever letting myself fall into this trap. It's ever so sweet though, isn't it? The thought of letting myself love him only made the scabs taste bitter.
He snored, he smelled, and he gave me scars every time we tried to 'kiss'. This is the last thing I should've done. Peppy told me to stay away. Hah! Even Falco told me to stay away, that it would get us both hurt in the end.
I bled, but I felt no pain.
I felt nothing.
This must be what it feels like to be dead inside. This feeling where there's nothing left to give and nothing left to receive. Everyone's already gotten a turn at your body and sometimes it turned into money that went towards things you needed… a future.
I went with the motions and fell into flings with people I had called friends and people I had called enemies. Whether it was Grey or O' Donnell, it was most likely someone I had slept with or gotten very close and backed out.
Then, there was Falco.
Falco. Falco. Falco…
We both lay in that bed, completely exposed in a pride that had diminished. Our lack of clothing was hidden by that blanket.
Except Falco had tugged most of it away, and damn, was it cold.
I was forced to lay nude and exposed to the world while he kept that little shroud of warmth that separated him from me. What a fucking metaphor.
As much as I wanted to lay there for as long as I could, to savor the moments before it inevitably crashed to where it had started like all of the times before, I couldn't. If I stayed, I'd get hurt when I realized what I'd fallen in love with.
A hopeless man with nothing more than the clothes on his back. All of his money gambled away the day it was made and his dignity gone with that thing we had called a relationship. That thing called love was the last thing either of us needed.
I still had the scars open from time to time; I still had to bleed without wanting to remember him.
So, why did I keep coming back for more? Sick, abused puppy… don't go back.
Young and naïve and even dumb enough to haven't noticed the end. His alcohol addiction and my Alcoholics Anonymous meetings weren't the formula for happiness.
He dragged me back down and marked break up 1.
Then, came the second time. I was so glad to see him back on the team that we hadn't even spent time in the relationship.
The sex wasn't good enough to constitute a lasting thing. No… no, the sex was good enough; but, not enough. It never really meant anything after he had taken my virginity. It was more of a job than anything.
And yet, here I was… used by him again, and again, and again. This must be what the call a bad relationship. Haha, that's all my future can ever hold.
I glanced at his sleeping form, and remembered all of the pain. I've gotta get up and get something to eat, I can't stay still for much longer.
Once I was up, he was awake. I swore under my breath.
"Where are you going Fox?" he questioned. The confusion in his voice made me wince. He was helpless without me. Fuck…
My hand reflexively reached for the bedside table, not getting anything in return. That's right; I did this of my own accord.
Daddy needs a new pair of shoes sometime.
I kept walking. There was neither a desire to look back nor the thought of giving a goodbye kiss. I needed to get the fuck out of there.
"Out," I muttered without much else before the door closed behind me. I needed a drink.
