𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 |𝟏𝟖+ (#𝟏)

𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚁𝚃𝚈-𝙾𝙽𝙴 |

31
AMBER JACKSON
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Regret.

I felt it crawl over my skin like a snake as I carefully applied makeup to look as decent as possible, not that it could disguise the evidence of why I had been gone for so long from the people I knew were waiting for our arrival out of curiosity. My cheeks are blotchy from tears that went down to my neck, and despite the guilty sensations coursing through my body, I was pleased at the impressions left on my skin from his lips and fingers darkening a tiny bit.

Thank God for waterproof mascara.

My fingertips gently glide over the bruises, bringing a little grin to my face without regard for the myriad emotions that rush my heart. Embarrassment. Proudness. Love. Heartbreak.

He loves me.

He loves me after only two months, and I'm not sure why, especially when I'm hurting him. To the outside world on the condition of time, we actually don't know that much about one another but at the same time we do, and it was fairly instant if I do say so on my own volition.

I am fully conscious of his ambitions and dreams, as well as his greatest achievements and secrets. He almost knows everything there is to know about me. I never expected for him to fall in love with me so quickly and in such a short time but it's not exactly like we were protecting ourselves from it. At the two month mark, most people are still figuring out if they are willing to put the best foot forward and start a relationship. Or they're simply just figuring out if that partner is allergic to kiwi (which Alessandro is).

I didn't shield myself from this possibility of love since all I wanted was to enjoy my time with a man without the unpleasant sense of being a target of their rage or being packaged as a commodity for their desires. Without a stopwatch or a to-do list ticking off successes as we went, we were able to enjoy carefree and meaningful conversations about many facets of life. Especially since he didn't let me worry throughout the two months we were in each other's company, that seemed like six.

I love him, but I hurt him.

This understanding causes a smile to slide from my face, not because I regret loving him, but because of the manner I've been treating him for the past month, during which we haven't spoken much less touched each other. Not only was I being selfish to him and the relationship we had, but I was also being selfish to myself. I've sought a lot of leniency from him, and I can't expect him to wait for me without any indication that I'm trying.

Allowing Alessandro to give parts of himself to me in a bathroom at his brother's wedding tops the list - not because I'm embarrassed or because the sex wasn't good - but because of the way he's made me feel like a cheap whore after just wishpering into my ears about how much loving me has caused him a series of discomforts. He walked out of the room without hearing a word I had to say, making me feel like just another person he could fuck when he was upset and dump out of his life like trash.

He claims to love me, but the sentiments of worthlessness I see in the mirror, where my flesh is covered with purple bruises and fingerprints, tell me differently. Especially because he wasn't there to smile and kiss each of them, apologizing and praising me for a good job. I missed the intimate aftercare.

I'm at it again, requesting too much when I don't deserve it. I was asking for a lot for someone so good at keeping secrets that not only hurt myself but the only relationship I cared as much for since meeting and blossoming a friendship with Jade.

He's furious with me, and I'm furious with myself. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing that all I had to do to get him to stop was speak my safe words. I gave him the benefit of the doubt because, to put it mildly, I was being a bitch. I gave him the benefit of the doubt because I understood his concerns about me not trusting him enough with this secret, so we could move forward and develop something with an explicit title.