Murder City

Chapter Four

4 | Aurora Bennett

"I cant do this."

That was the last thing I said to Billie, before I pushed his weight away from me to run past him. I heard him, begging me for an explanation, an explanation I could not give. The cold air blew my curled hair from my face, the wind hitting my eyes, forcing tears out of them. I ran inside, scanning the crowds for Fletcher. I needed him. My safety blanket. I needed normality. I needed to feel like myself again. I never thought I'd say I need him, because I don't, I just need the idea of him. The idea of something normal

I heard the door creek open behind me, and without thinking I sped into the dance-floor. I didn't want Billie. Suddenly, the kisses felt fake, his touch was revolting, I couldn't stand him for a second later.

I ran until I spotted Fletchers blonde locks, his arm wrapped around another woman's waist, he was smirking at her as they danced, looking into her eyes more deeply than he'd ever looked at me. But, I suddenly found myself unable to care. I grabbed onto him, begging for him to take me home. "Oh now you want me?" He asked, his hands placed firmly on his hips, "Got tired of your boy-toy?" I hated the way negativity could roll off his tongue so easily. Turning back to the woman, he smirked, before both of them gave me an ugly look. His hand was still firmly around her waist, like Billie's was around mine. Yet, it felt more romantic with him. I can't blame Fletcher for cheating on me, I know I deserve it. I know the rest of my life will be filled with regret for letting Billie touch me.

The morning sun shines through the curtains, I shuffle slightly, feeling the warmth of Fletchers bare arms around me. My finger dances across his arm, my ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The boom of it sends waves of calm through me, but the uneasy feeling I have around him doesn't fade. It'll never fade. 

I wish moments like these could be photographed for all they are. The sounds, the feeling, the quiet breathing. All of it, captured forever. Nobody will ever see Fletcher the way I do, his raw self. Thats the beauty of him. Even if he doesn't love me, I'll love for both of us.

Fletcher squeezes the clasp of my bra, holding it for a second, before releasing, groaning as his arms stretch above his head, before they click free of morning tenseness.  "I love you." I mutter, tracing tiny circles across Fletchers arm.

I stop.

It doesn't feel the same. I don't feel the warmth of love across my body as my fingertips trace over his skin. I begin to wonder if its only the receiver that feels that. I wonder if Billie is the only man who will make me feel like that. Stop. I think to myself, wanting Billie to disappear out of my mind forever, because I can't handle the feelings and the thoughts that come with him. Its too much, too soon. 

Fletcher grunts in response. We didn't talk last night when we got home. He didn't even look at me. I spent the whole night curled up against him, as he quickly tapped his phone screen, unfazed by my presence. Normal. Its the first time I've been happy about him ignoring me, because now everything's back to normal, and I can finally relax. His muscular arm rests against my back, releasing another tired groan.

Fletcher's phone buzzes, his alarm ringing, disturbing the comfortable silence. He groans, this time out of annoyance, stretching his arms above his head . Sitting up, I shuffle from his lap back onto my size of the bed. Fletcher stands up, walking over to his closet and digging out some pants, tugging them over his waistline. "I'm back at 8." He still doesn't look at me. "I'm going out for drinks after work." He tells me, before I get the chance to ask. He leans over, sliding worn-out sneakers onto his feet.

He stands tall from tying the shoelaces of his sneakers. "Don't wait up for me." 

He turns, leaving the room, before stomping down the stairs and pushing through the front door. 

I sigh, I'm alone. I'm aware that I'm alone. Way too alone. I sit up, tucking my bare legs into my chest, looking around the room as if I'm a scared child. I feel the cold air from the acutely opened window, flowing through into my room and surrounding my body. Shivering, I stand up and walk to the closet, opening it to throw on a random shirt and pants. I can't stay here, I know I can't. It's too much, too soon.

I slowly walk down the stairs, I'm suddenly aware of everything. My breathing, the few strands of my hair leaking out of my ponytail, the pumping of my heart, my skin. I reach out to the door, slowly unlocking it, the shake of my hands making it almost impossible. I pull the door open.

"Hi." 

I stop, looking up.

I see the tiny figure of a man so recognizable, so unforgettable. His hair looks fluffy now, especially since its no longer caked in sweat. His chest rises, before falling quickly and repeating. His voice is breathless, and he rests against the doorframe. "Did you run here?" I ask, not thinking clearly. He's wearing a grey sweater, no longer wearing an ill-fitting blazer. 

"Yeah." His voice is breathless, he hunches over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. "You didn't answer my texts." He continues, purpose in his voice.

I didn't, on purpose.

I chose to stay clear of his calls and texts, even turning off my phone to avoid the annoyance of notifications. I thought about blocking him, but I couldn't ever go that far. Seeing his name in my contacts makes me smile.

My mind wants to forget him, my heart wants to replay last night over and over again, right until the moment I pushed him away.  "What did I do?" He asks, standing straight, looming over me slightly. "Nothing." I answer, knowing I wouldn't be able to give him a reason, because I don't know what he did. I have no idea why I pushed him away, when in reality I wanted him closer, kissing me clear of every thought in my head. 

"So why-" My finger presses to his lips, silencing him instantly. I make my decisions based on the greater-good of whatever outcome is to happen. I can't keep living like Rapunzel, except I'm not locked in a tower, I'm locked in a relationship I was never ready for. I can't live life being directed by Fletcher, and if I am, I might as well have some fun along the way. 

Love is my spice to life. 

I grab onto the collar of Billie's shirt, tugging him inside the house. I don't bother being gentle, and by the smile spread across his face, I can tell he doesn't care. We need eachother, kind of like a sick person needs medicine, you don't need it forever. But in that moment, you feel like you need it forever. 

I push him against the wall, his back lead tightly against the flowery wallpaper, but not for long. My hand tugs him closer, my mouth forcefully against his. 

Nothing last forever, but that doesn't mean I can't drag it out for as long as possible.