Maggie Norris and Luke Vaudest come with attitudes of stone-cold, rude, sarcastic snakes. Every single time the pair have clashed, it has never ended up being a good thing. The two are more than fine with never crossing paths, again.
Until Maggie d...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"In case you ever foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you." — Virginia Woolf ————————————————————
Chapter 83 <—————————————>
Luke
Fifteen days.
Fifteen long days had passed ever since Maggie Norris walked out of my life. Since she tore my heart from my chest with a hand of thorns, and never gave it back.
Above all else, I was forced to learn this shit right away: heartbreak fucking sucked. I had never considered myself a soft son of a bitch until I experienced it firsthand.
In a way, it was the same as love, while being the very opposite, too.
Emotions were heavy, but in a bad, fucking soul shredding way. Everything you considered good was bad. Everything that made you happy made you sad or pissed as fuck. Everything that made sense suddenly didn't make any fucking sense, anymore.
Breathing didn't make sense, not when the first person who took your breath away had gone right with it, too. The heart pumping in your chest didn't feel like your own, because it no longer was. It was entirely different this time around, because it had been held by hands crafted exactly for yours, and Vice versa. Trying to see into your soul after having it intertwined with someone else's for so long was just laughable, too.
And, for fucks sake, nothing seemed to operate right afterwards, either.
Eating? Nope. Sick to your stomach? Always. Drunk? Hell yeah. Never actually getting drunk, so you continue to drink, despite knowing the same tortuous result? Unfortunately.
Anything romantic makes you want to throw up. And, if not that, then it made you want to throw a punch at whoever was involved, because why were other people allowed it when you weren't? It was all so fucked.
I hated it. I hated feeling it. I hated the fact that I put myself in the position to feel it, because once upon a time, I had sworn to myself that I never would, and that I'd never even put myself at risk at knowing this feeling. But all that shit went down the drain.
And above all else, I hated the fact that I couldn't understand why it happened, either.
I couldn't understand shit, other than this huge, gaping hole in my chest that was only widening by the second, and that was only because the person holding the blade had left with my heart and all else with her. It was a bloody scene the second Maggie Norris left it the way she did.
In that same space was pain. One so excruciating, it had gone numb, yet it was still the most sensitive spot in my body, right now. It was empty, and so was I.
