𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗶 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲

craving vs. hating

I know it's him. The man that I hopelessly desire and ruthlessly despise.

You could call me crazy, because I know exactly the way his warm hands feel on mine, because I know how he smells, and how his scent fills my senses. You could call me insane because I hate someone that I so desperately crave.

The light clicks on and there he stands. His shirt is half unbuttoned and his dark brown hair is messy all over his head. Despite all of this, he's still the most attractive man I've laid eyes on all night.

We stand there in silence. Lukas in anger and me in confusion. His blue eyes continue to glare into mine, and I find myself wavering against his intense eye contact.

Why is he angry?

My eyes begin to look around my surroundings. The small room we're in has a small brown loveseat, and on the chair is a beautiful knitted yellow blanket.

Directly in front of the loveseat is a white coffee table, and piled on top of the table are magazines, lots of them. Around the room are poster boards, glue, and alcohol, so so so much alcohol. If we weren't in a restaurant, I'd probably confuse it with a liquor store.

Lukas grabs me roughly by my chin and snaps my face back to his. I know he doesn't like to be disrespected, and I can tell I just made him even angrier when I broke eye-contact with him.

Lukas' jaw is clenched. "What are you doing down this hall?" he grits out. His hair is falling into his face as he stares down at me.

Should I tell him that my date isn't going as I thought it would? Should I just be honest, and endure the embarrassment of it later? "I needed to go to the restroom. I got lost. I don't know where it is." I speak, staring into his blue tired eyes.

He looks different. Like he hasn't slept for days. Lukas looks at me for a while, crossing over every feature on my face. After a while his tight grip on my chin loosens. "Do you really need to use the restroom, or do you just want to get away?" Lukas asks.

My mouth wants to gape open at his words. Was it really that obvious that our date wasn't going as planned? "Where is it?" I ask, avoiding his question.

Lukas walks over to the sofa and plops down on top of it. He grabs the bottle of light brown alcohol and chugs some of the strong liquid down without even making a single strained face.

"Go back to the beginning of the hallway, and head straight. The bathroom is directly on the right." he affirms lowly, propping his feet on top of the numerous stacks of magazines. He brings the bottle back to his lips. Somehow I can tell he feels completed again.

Just like my father felt when he drank. After standing there for a while, I finally realize I have to go now. Who knows when I'll see him again.

Maybe he'll decide to miss another two weeks, and leave me with all of his overdue paperwork and CEO things to do.

I grow angrier by the second thinking about it. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even care. He had plenty of chances while I was in here to apologize, plenty of chances to give any reasoning.

But he didn't even try.

I know he doesn't care. I know he could care less about the way I feel, or that I'm struggling to finish my work and his together.

I should've just stayed at my old job. No matter where I am, I will always find myself in this same predicament. My fingers curl around the doorknob, desperately trying to hold my feelings in, trying to hold myself back.

Resist.
Resist.
Resist.

I want to curse at him, and yell, scream at the top of my lungs. I want to let out all of my irritation. I want to tell him that he's a slob, and that I don't deserve this treatment. I want to tell him all of the feelings I've been keeping hidden for the past couple of weeks.