Her

what is going on?

Stumbling into the bedroom after his confusing shower, he is met with a firey confrontation with his girlfriend.

"Why didn't you wake me up when you got home?" She persecuted.
"I-I figured you had a long day, too. I-I just came up and showered," his eyes dotted around the room. "I haven't been home long."
Her arms crossed over her chest, and she looked at the unmade bed. "I don't know... I just want to say I'm sorry for how I have been acting lately. No excuse, really. I'm just taking out shit on you."

Her words seemed sincere, and the guilt on her face did as well. He gave a half smile and turned his head to the side. Making his way across the room, he wrapped his arms around her waist and embraced her. He said nothing and just held her for a moment. His mind was not focused in the moment. The visions he had just moments ago still have a hold of him.

His girlfriend looked up at him from his chest with drying, teary eyes. "I want to make it up to you..." His eyes widened as he looked down at her. She tucked her fingers under the top of the towel, wrapping around his waist. Kissing his chest gently, she giggled against his skin.

"I know it might sound crazy but I like the fighting," she smirked up at him.
His eyes looked down at her, almost with disgust. "You do?"
She leaned back slightly to get a better look at his expression, "Well... yeah! I'm not just being a bitch to make you feel bad."
He scoffed, "Mmmm... so you do it to be a bitch and to make yourself feel good. Sounds like a really good excuse."

He tries turning away from her to just turn in for the night. This isn't what he wants to think about right now. His mind his jumbled. He doesn't understand where his head is. He feels as if he has been hallucinating from lack of sleep and imagining this dream girl...but now...his real girl is saying she plays with his heart because its fun to her. 'What is going on?'

She turns with him, now tugging at his towel, trying to pull his damp skin against hers. "No, I just want to like... ya know, in the movies," her voice slows as she traces one hand from his ear, down his neck, over his chest, and down his abs. "...When they have heated arguements and then the guy just takes control over his woman..."

He grabs her hand and stops her. "I don't want to take control over you." He shakes his head in defeat. She grips at his towel in her other hand and pulls at it more. "You're telling me you don't want to punish me for how badly I have treated you?" Almost begging for him to give her what she wants. His face goes blank and void as he looks down at her. "No."

His girlfriend thinks hes playing a game. Trying to make her beg for him to give her what she wants. She smirks up at him thinking she knows what hes getting at. She traces her fingers from under the towel down over his semi erect cock. He still hasn't fully recovered from whatever he experienced in the shower.

She kisses his neck and starts recounting their arguements beneath her lips in a whisper. "The other night... when you came home... and put your stuff down... I wanted you...to take ownership over me...to put me in my place...to make me be a good girl..." Her lips began trailing down his chest and abs until she reached his towel. She pulled at it. He grabbed her hand, trying to stop her. She yanked the towel off completely.

He was flaccid. Her face was so confused and disappointed. It soon filled with that anger he grew so accustomed to. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She motioned towards his dick as she stood back up. "You don't want me to suck your dick?" She scoffed, "Really?!"

He just stood there and took it. Not knowing what to say. In his eyes, he said all he could in order to explain his point. His silence was deafening to her. Her eyes swelled up with tears she had just minutes ago stiffled. Her lip quivered, and her face became flushed. Turning her head away, she pushed by and started gathering some of her things in a bag.

He sat down on the bed and watched her pack, still saying nothing. "Oh, my friends are gunna get a kick out of this shit. A man couldn't get hard for his own girlfriend. And sure the hell couldn't fuck his girlfriend like she deserves." No words. But one thought, 'fuck you.'

Slipping on some slides as she held her bag, phone, and charger in hand she started heading for the bedroom door. "Let me know when you grow some balls and can actually handle a woman like me. You're so pathetic." She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her. Her stomps down the stairs echoed thru the home. She slammed the front door on the way out, and he heard a photo fall off the wall.

As her car pulled off, his back fell against the bed. He stared up at the ceiling expressionless.

'What is even real anymore? My whole relationship has become a play for sex? I just don't believe her. If it's just for sex... then why say this hateful shit just now?'

He placed both his hands over either temple as he felt a headache coming on. There is too much to process on such a tired mind. He grumbles to himself as his arms fall limp on either side of his body. Focusing on the ceiling, his eyes disengage, and he disassociates from his current body. He becomes lighter and separated.

He can see himself in the shower from earlier... but as if he is standing in the doorway. In this vision, it's almost as if he sees himself masturbating alone until flashes of something else come thru. He is seeing her body kneeled in front of his own now. In quick moments, but then she appears longer. It's almost like a glitch in his own mind.

He blinks several times, bringing him back to his present body. His headache is now stronger than before. His eyes are so tired that he can feel the bags weighing his face down. He forces himself to sit up and just stairs at his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he swears that his curtain moves, but when glancing over, it appears still. "Im just fucking exhausted!"

He jumps up, and walks into the bathroom closet. Grabbing a pain reliever for the headache and a benadryl to rest, he walks back to the bed and dry swallows them. Looking over the unmade bed and over to his girlfriend's side. 'She left her pillow.' He is hurt. Why does he care that she didn't take her pillow?

He sighs to himself and knocks it off the bed before lazily throwing the sheets to make it appear half made up. Turn the covers back and nearly falling into bed he just lies in wake. Staring over at the curtain for a moment. 'Why am I hallucinating? Aren't I dealing with enough right now?" He leans over to flip off the lamp before turning over in bed.

The room is dark. The house is quiet. His body soon falls victim to weakness and drifts to sleep. As his body lies still and quiet, the curtains begin to ruffle again. Not a sound loud enough to wake him. Her hands reach out thru the curtain just as they did to the shower glass. She is here for him...and she will have what is hers once again.