Treat me well

eight

"Let me carry you"

he looked angry.

I wasn't going to argue I was going to be able to feel the breeze on my skin hearing the birds sing. It was the little things that made me happy these days.
He sat on the chair on the balcony and placed me on his lap. I was hoping to sit on my own how silly of me he can't risk that.

"Blake, can I please have five minutes to myself please. I need to think, just five minutes it's all I ask."

I smile shyly.

"Fine five minutes. I will be back in exactly five minutes."

He stands up placing me on the chair and leaves. I hear the door lock behind him. Finally! I run back in looking for my cigarettes and ID. I find my cigarettes in the top of the wardrobe along with a lighter but no ID. Sadly you can't just go cold turkey. No phone neither. He's not that stupid of course.
I run back outside and light the cigarette. Fuck that felt so gooood. I manage to get two cigarettes in of the space of 5 minutes. The smoke feels smooth rolling down my throat.

"Cough cough, ARABELLA! What do you think you're doing?!"

Fuck he's caught me and he's absolutely ragging I can sense it before I even turn my body.

He snatches the cigarette out of my hand and throws it onto the ground! Stamping down on it fast and quickly.
I stand up and walk to the edge of the balcony and look over pretending he's not there. I watch the long grass move with the wind and the birds cheeping away. What I'd do to be on that grass sitting right now.

Without thinking I start to climb over the balcony. We're on the first floor so there isn't a drop. As I lift my leg, it gets grabbed and pulled down. Fuck. That hurt.

"No Arabella, you're pregnant you're not climbing over the metal like you're a teenager again. Sit."

He demands. I'm shocked he didn't take me back inside and make me go to bed. I should be grateful.

"Thank you, I whisper".