Didn't have a beta - very spontaneous write-up.
Left it on the Fic Lab as a contribution for the prompt #fallacy. So, I'll use it as the title.

d4vd 's song gave me some words and the inspiration, the rest is mine.

#Fallacy

EPOV

I don't know how I wound up at your door last night... In need of a friend, I ended up in your bed again.
You're off-limits, an old habit that surfaced in a moment of weakness... or five.. that's how.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I'm a grown man, I should know better and it went well for a while. I was glad you started therapy, got sober. I kept my distance. You said you couldn't be with anyone while you're taking care of yourself, working on your future, go to meetings, get support from strangers with the same problem.

It actually started to piss me off how you get better while I'm suffering, trying to be patient until you'd be ready for us to have a relationship. I know how that sounds. Bitter and stupid and selfish.

When my parents find out I messed up like I did last night, they'll be so disappointed. My sister will have my balls in a steam press.

The morning sun comes shining through your bedroom window, mocking me with her cheery attitude. A fucking gorgeous Spring day. Tiny daisies in full bloom right outside your window.

You're still asleep beside me, the sun casting a golden glow over your peaceful features, highlighting reddish streaks of auburn hair. A thick, curly strand over your delicate cheekbone makes my fingers itch to gently move it behind your ear so that I could wake you with a kiss.
Sobriety suits you well.

Fuck.

I should haul ass out of here - put as many miles between us as possible. Instead I want to stay, cook breakfast, fill up your cozy kitchen with the soothing smell of morning coffee and take you back to bed afterwards.

Sometimes I wonder who's the weaker addict between the two of us.

Your signature feminine snores start to stutter, indicating you're coming to life.
"Hey", you whisper, raspy voice, water-green eyes, reflecting the sunlight bouncing off your pillow.
"Hey, gorgeous", I can't help myself. Go straight for your juicy lips, morning breath be dammed.
You're curling your sleepy frame around my neck and pull me in, deepening the kiss, the overwhelming sensation heading straight to my groin.

You're on a mission, no restraint, just living in the moment, filling a need, a deep desire we both know all too well.

Allowing myself the satisfaction that comes with giving in to the forbidden, lustful need to be as close as possible, both still naked under the covers, I settle between your wide open legs, entering in one swift move and burry myself up to the hilt in your endlessly smooth, wet warmth. You pull me in, closing your legs behind my back, hooking your black nails into my ass cheeks, giving off a guttural groan into our tangled mouths. Frantic, desperate rhythm, languid, strong thrusts, my hand coming up behind your thigh, positioning our hips for deeper access, your moans becoming even louder, mixing with my own. The kissing is sloppy and careless and so fucking erotic, my brain on a toxic high never experienced.

"I'm coming", you whisper-scream into my ear, holding me in a death grip, arching your back when my hand comes to where we're joined, rubbing the bundle of nerves I know will bring you that ultimate pleasure, the explosion you're chasing. But it feels just too damn good and I want to delay the inevitable ending of our cosmic connection. I drop my hand, open your legs even wider with both hands and pull out quickly, pressing my mouth to where my pelvic bone was having a workout , which makes you scream with delight, giving me divine names while cursing up a storm.

It's wonderful, breathtaking, so damn satisfying - addictive!

I devour your pussy like a starved man, licking all the right spots until I can't wait a second longer to be inside you again.

I kiss my way up your belly, kiss you between your full breasts, lick around your hardened nipples until you get really impatient and pull me up, grabbing my stony erection, positioning me at your entrance and push yourself onto me with unexpected force.

I'm about to lose my fucking mind.

"Babe", I exhale while setting up a newly found pace, "Babe, I love you so much", I whisper in your ear. Your eyes are closed, concentrated on your own pleasure, chasing your release and I can feel your flutters around my length, clamping down, milking me during your strong-ass orgasm, laced with profanities, tortured features on your lovely, angelic face.

So I'm letting go, setting you free, giving myself that final, mind numbing experience, taking you with all that I got in long, deep strokes, speeding up to finally get mine.

We're drenched in sweat, tears running down my face, hiding between your shoulder and your ear, leaving my mark, sucking the life out of your throat.
I can barely let go, while you're slowly moving out of my embrace, pushing me onto my back, straddling by hips, covering me with the wetness I put there.

Your hair falling on my face like a tent, you kiss me one more time, slow and sensual, one last peck and you're off to take a shower.

The comedown is brutal.

Reality spitting in my face. You dumb fuck!

The masochistic idiot that I am, I get up to join you in the shower to face your harsh rejection, your determination when it comes to your program - no relationship - no being in love allowed.

I'm drowning while you come up for air, breaking the surface.

"Ed, I need to get ready for work", you nicely push me behind you, shampooing your waist-long curls, rinsing hurriedly. No more play, strictly back to what's allowed between the two of us.
I'm giving myself a short body wash and head out, beating you to the bedroom where our clothes are still on the floor making love.

The irony.

That's my wake-up call. I gather my shit, get dressed and with one rueful glance around your cozy place, filled with so much history. I slowly walk over to your desk and write up a note.

"Babe,
call me when this is over. Call me when you're ready for our life to start again. Please, call me and I'll be there for the both of us. I love you. Always will. Yours, E."

There's a vase full of wilted wildflowers on your flea market kitchen table.
How metaphoric. Wilted wildflowers - like you. Becoming the daisies on your Window seal again.

I leave the note there, pinning it down with the vase on top for you to find it.

Hoping you will. Call me. In six months. Maybe a year. Maybe never. Maybe you won't need me anymore the way I need you. Maybe you won't love me anymore when you're sober. Maybe it's all in my head and you will go your separate ways once you're healed and put together...without me.

I won't miss our ugly, drunk, shameless arguments with flying bottles, your coursing when intoxicated, aiming way below the beltline. I won't miss your drunken jealousy and accusations, calling me a cheater and a fucking liar, due to your foggy misconceptions.

But I will desperately miss our make-up-sex marathons the next day, heartfelt promises not to let it get that bad ever again, knowing we will end up there again and again. A vicious circle of alcohol and broken hearts.

I grab my keys off the counter when I hear you exit the bathroom. You stand there wrapped in a towel, your wet hair dripping on the carpet. I'm stepping closer, your face in my hands.

A final kiss goodbye. One last hug.

"Call me."

"I will."

One last, forced, painful smile, peppered kisses all over your beautiful face.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"Take good care."

"You too."

Ripping my heart to shreds, I exit our last embrace and head for the door, pulling it closed behind me, running down the stairs, not looking back... You'll call me...you must.

Trying to catch my breath after a sob-filled sprint , bending over, resting my hands on my knees, my vision is blurry. I feel like a pathetic loser. A weak and selfish man, reduced to a whiny boy. I need to get my shit together... today!
For the very first time since Bella decided she needed help from someone other than me, went away to get sober and start over, I feel like I'm the one left behind with unsolved issues and nowhere to turn to.

There's a name to it ... I'm co-dependent...I think.

The things we went through together didn't bring us closer to a normal life without substance abuse and toxic behavior patterns. It only got us to hit rock bottom.

Straightening my sore body, I have a beautiful view over the lake, my eyes squinting away the glistening sun that's reflected in the tender morning ripples of its surface. The wind creating tiny waves, playing with my hair that's still wet from the shower earlier.

It's soothing, at the same time it gives me massive goose bumps and a healthy dose of clairvoyance I was missing since last night.
I need help too.

I need to heal and get better myself or I won't be who she needs whenever she decides it's time to come back to me.

Standing there, at the waterfront, a splendid day on the rise, I feel something similar to hope and a little flicker of confidence that not all is lost.

I take out my cell and dial a number Bella gave me when she first started therapy.

They pick up on the second ring...help is on the way.