His Love

Chapter 18- Wounded

-Alaina-

I throw myself onto the first bar stool I see, waving lazily at the younger guy behind, shaking an unknown drink.

"Usual?" he asks, a sympathetic look across his features.

"God, am I here that often?" I drop my head between my shoulders.

"Almost every night. Something going on?" he slides a glass of some cheap alcohol across the bar.

"Men. Did you expect any other answer?" 

He chuckles, swiping a towel around the rim of another glass.

"No. You hold that look in your eyes. Disappointment. You make it obvious, you thought this one was different."

"Okay, fuck off mind reader." I laugh, taking a swig.

Taking a couple steps towards me, he leans his elbows on the bar, looking up at me.

"As someone who also likes men, they break hearts, and your way too pretty to be hung up on this, it's been a while, right?"

"2 months." I mumble, clearing my throat. "Broke up with me 2 months ago."

He looks at me in disbelief.

"Look around you, there's almost a hundred guys in this one room who would want you, this other guy isn't worth thinking about." he places his hand on the glass, stopping me from drinking.

I arch my eyebrow at him.

"I'll call you an uber, and you're going to go home and do whatever you have to do to forget about this boy." 

Sticking his finger in my face, he speaks again.

"And I don't want to see you here tomorrow, or the day after. You need a break from this. Getting drunk every night is going to kill you."

He raises my drink to his lips.

"Drinking on the job?" I question, searching through my bag for cash.

"I leave in half an hour, don't panic." he slides a napkin over the sticky oak bar.

"Your mascara is running." He winks before pulling out his phone and walking away.

Scrolling through my contacts, I see his name.

Would you like to delete this contact?

Yes.

I place it face down in front of me, inhaling deeply.

"Your uber will be 5 minutes, don't move. As much as there's good men, most of them in here are only wanting one thing." 

"Trust me, I know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I arrive at home, sliding my key into the lock.

Throwing my jacket over my small, ripped sofa, I walk into my bedroom, snatching a random hoodie from the closet.

After getting dressed, I sit in bed on my phone.

Silence.

The low hum of the cars, horns blaring, people talking, birds singing their sickly sweet songs.

I can't hear anything.

Shifting uncomfortably, I plug my phone into the charger on the wall.

Living alone is probably my least favourite thing.

Don't get me wrong, the privacy and the tranquility is divine.

But being alone is overrated, all I want is someone to ask me how my day was when I get home.