youngblood | a.i.

sixty nine || touch move

Wednesday, November 11th- 8:25 p.m.

| Touch Move |
The rule that says if you touch a piece, you have to move it.

× Anastasia ×

"You know, there isn't a single drop of alcohol in this cabin anywhere," I finally spoke through our silence.

I turned my head towards him, opening my eyes to see the angel behind his as I stared back.

"My grandparents always hated my mother for marrying an alcoholic, so this was supposed to be a safe place away from it all," he explained to me.

"Kinda sucks when I couldn't find anything and just wanted to drown out the world around me," I shrugged as I turned back to look up to the sky.

"Yeah," he agreed, looking away too. "You learn to bring your own with when you know it's going to be a rough night."

The silence fell back between us as the memories from this place flew past like a movie- but this time I knew the ending already.

This time I knew those words on this same dock had been foreshadowing- I knew I needed to hate him this time around. I knew the way he pushed me away was a warning sign, not a reason to fall deeper.

I knew the way he kissed me had been a craving building up for years for us both, and it was finally being released.

I knew the way he stopped himself that night had been a guilt trip within his mind, not a worry for me.

I knew the way he danced with me in the kitchen just feet away from where we lay had been part of his plan all along.

I knew the way he held me on that couch, explaining my every quirk he picked up on, had been a way to tie me in further.

I knew the way he'd dried my clothes had been a way to pull me in deep and make sure I didn't want to leave.

I knew the way he'd wrote me a whole note explaining my own cassette had been built off a lie.

I knew the way he'd continued to ask me if I was sure wasn't to make me feel better, but rather to make himself feel better as the bet danced through the back of his head.

I knew the way we connected that night hadn't been real, because the trust I had been handing over was set to break just a day later.

I knew the way he took care of me after had been his way of stopping his guilt, not because he genuinely cared.

I knew the way he messed with me in the kitchen had been a cruel joke in reality.

I knew the way he'd taught me his favorite pasta recipe would become an excuse in my head later on to keep taking those little white pills.

I knew the way he'd held me had been a lie.

I knew the way he'd kissed me had been a lie.

I knew the way he'd treated me had been a lie.

I knew the way he'd spoken to me had been a lie.

I knew the way he'd cared for me after sex had been a lie.

I knew the way he'd called me Angel had been because he was the devil that would eventually kill the Angel.

I knew the way he'd burnt me in the end.

I knew the way he'd loved me would kill me.

I knew that our whole movie had been a lie, and each scene only hurt more because of it.