My Soulmates are IDOLS 1 | Limelight🎇| 18+ [Reverse Harem]

102:Loneliness

He shook his head, scoffing a little. He forced himself to let loose a loud bark of laughter in hopes that the action would quell that rising feeling deep in his chest. The unknown feeling that bubbled and dug its claws deep into the fleshy crevices of his heart. But the laughter was dry and it rang, loud and empty in his condominium.

The sound appeared to be miles away from his body. He could barely hear it even though his body was what had created that laughter. His ears felt as if he were underwater, and the sound was muffled and empty. It echoed about him eerily, like whispery taunts from the monsters in the dark.

His monsters.

His mind seemed to be detached from his physical form, far away in a dark and unknown place. It floated, his mind. It grappled, slipped and tried to register what he had just heard. It struggled and gripped at the information. It repeated the cycle in that dark place.

Amber had a soulmate. She had told him that. He had known that. He just never expected it to be Hikaru. He blinked, shaking his head. No, no who cared if it were Hikaru. Even if it wasn't Hikaru, he knew that she had a soulmate. He knew.

He knew. He knew all along. He knew she wasn't his. He knew and that was why he pushed her away. He expected this. He did. He knew this would happen. Yet, why did he feel as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest?

His heart was chewed on by the monsters in the dark, bits of it spat out like some badly served dish and stepped on by thousands as if it were a piece of shit on the sidewalk from a stray dog.

You wanted her from the start.

The voice curled over his shoulder, whispering those words. It was insidious and its tone was sharp and high. It rang and rang within him, scratchy and pitched like the sudden blast of Bluetooth speakers at their loudest.

The voice pierced into his fleshy brain, scratching and tearing into his mental eardrums. It hurt.

You shouldn't have waited.

It snapped, roaring in his head and raised into a horrendous pitch that sent Ezra doubling over on the floor, clutching at his head.

You shouldn't have run.

No, no, no. Ezra struggled to stand, his feet knocking painfully into the wooden legs of his chair. The furniture overturned, slamming hard onto the marble floor but he couldn't care less.

He was okay. He told himself, stumbling into the toilet. The tiles were cold on his feet and usually, he would wince. But he couldn't bring his body to react now. He couldn't care. He was numb to such physical discomforts, the stinging and flashing of pain.

You should have stolen her.

He was okay. He clumsily flicked on the lights, slamming his tender palms on the switch.

You should have fucked her.

He was okay. He stepped before the mirror, eyes registering his appearance.

You knew that as long as you had asked in the car she would have let you take her.

Heh, him? He snorted, finally answering the darkness that plagued his mind. Why would she want to fuck him? The man before him was a wreck. Disgusting sallow skin that was coated with a thin layer of grease. He looked as if he'd been dunking himself in oil for the past three hours, spraying that shit on his skin like a damned beauty routine.

Tiny eyes that made his nose seem to take up his entire face, stupid fish lips. Matted, clumps of sticky, oily hair that clung to his forehead. A pimple or two at the side of his damned fat and round face. That ugly dark, purple circle that surrounded each bloodshot eye. He was so fucking ugly without the glitz and the glamour. A pathetic waste of space. He froze as he met his own gaze in the mirror.