𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡 𝙄𝙣𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙩 - 𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 ✓

49.

━━━

I don't know what was truly appropriate, I don't know if what happened should have happened. 

But what I do know, is Stanislav is passed out on the couch against me, which we both fell asleep on. He's sleeping quite heavily, and will most likely wake up hungover and agitated, which is something I'm not looking forward to. As terrifying as that man may be, he worries me. Especially with how excessively he was drinking. It makes me question how much he drinks in the times I'm not awake. 

I stare from afar, robe hugging my body as I sit in a single-person seat across the lounge room, coffee mug in grasp and the TV playing at a soft volume. A blanket sits over his sleeping body, his arm hanging off of the couch as he very quietly snores. 

I can only stare and ponder, questioning if last night was fair on him or I. I know it was both mutually driven, but he was intoxicated, and I've been emotionally unstable for the past week. It's quite confusing, because each time I become intimate with that man, I always feel a tinge of regret. And I truly don't know why. I feel like I'm holding onto the bad memories of being around him, and placing them on him now. 

I feel like I'm not meant to be with him, like it's illegal or something, taboo. 

I've spoken to Stanislav about this before. He usually doesn't look like the type to bring any sort of emotional relief to your issues, but he does. And he does it in a way that explains your issues in a different perspective, making them more digestible. 

I remember, he worded it in this very interesting way. 

"It feels wrong to you because you were so used to being with someone who you considered 'safe'. In my opinion, I would've worded as 'boring'. Anyways, personal feelings aside, you just need to get used to the fact that you are not with someone who had the personality of a ball of yarn yet still cheated on you. Do you understand?"

And when I say interesting, I mean it was just plain funny. But still truthful, compared to Stanislav, Ryle didn't have much to hold in comparison. Stanislav loves deep, complex and with actions rather than words. He says it how it is, and is not afraid to speak the truth with how I make him feel and why. He also understands me, he knows me. He knows everything about me, and never uses it against me in any negative context.

While on the other hand, Ryle is... Ryle. He was a nice man, handsome with a good job behind him and a serious family, but other than that, he didn't know me. He knew me on a surface level, but never tried to dig deeper. He was never overly exciting either. Excitement is needed in relationships, even the smallest doses. Ryle just never sparked excitement, ever, and still had the audacity to cheat. 

Whatever, it doesn't matter. 

I hear the soft groan of Stanislav awakening, his black locks messily sprawled over the couch as his head gently lifts, blinking very groggily and tiredly. He meets my gaze through his overhung strands of hair, sighing quite roughly. 

"Good morning, well... good afternoon," I correct, the time being 1:14pm. He only stares for a moment, before dropping his head back down onto the couch and letting out a strained, hoarse groan of pain. He's definitely hung-over. I can feel his developing migraine from here. 

"There's water and painkillers on the coffee table, if you want anything to eat, I can make you anything you like," I offer with sympathy, his hanging hand reaching to the coffee table and taking the painkillers, swigging the cup of water and placing the half-drunk drink back down. 

He lays back down, hair sprawling and body loosening into the couch. 

He shifts, lifting the blanket up before moving his head to face me. "Lay with me." He commands with a hoarse graze against his voice, my eyes lifting a little. As he lays, my eyes shift for a moment. To be against him, close to him, comforting him. Whether that is worth it, whether that's a good thing for me to do. Whether I'm just digging my own emotional grave deeper.