BURN (Wattys2015?)

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"What are you doing?" she purrs, climbing into my lap. She kisses me neck. You hastily flip your notebook closed, and muster a smile.
"Nothing." You lie. Better than tell her what you were really writing.
"Come back to bed," she whines, rubbing her body against mine.
"I can't." You want to..You don't want to. You should go. You should stay. You can't decide. Or, well, you know what you should do.
You roll her over, pinning her under yourself. She stretches her arms out and you hold her wrists, kissing her mouth and neck.
You met last night, in some shady bar. You both were lonely, you both were sad. You hadn't come with the intention of going home with someone, but sometimes we get the best of ourselves. She was a pretty dark little thing, with big black eyes that begged for something to wash away the loneliness. She came for a drink, but instead she got you.
"I... need.. to.. go." You say between kisses. Your mind says go, your body says stay.
She grunts in frustration, and you get up and reach for your notebook.
But she's quicker.
She grabs the notebook, running around the room in that skimpy little white shirt that barely reaches the top of her long dark legs. She has the natural grace most ballerinas have.
But she doesn't see your face, she doesn't see  your face. She just looks straight through you, like everyone else.
She flips it open, and reads a bit of it out loud. A confused expression crosses her doll like face. 
"What is this?" She asks, worry filling her eyes. You snatch the notebook away, your face hard and stony. White hot anger, hot to the point it seems cold, courses through you.
"What's your name again?" You say, your voice filled with a bitter, cold venom.
Hurt flashes on her face. Inside, your heart clenches. You hate to hurt people. But sometimes it's necessary.
"Cassie," she whispers, her big dark eyes never looked more lonely than they did then.
"Okay, well, I'm going to go." You walk to the door, slipping on that worn leather jacket you wear too much. "Thanks, I guess, for last night."
She stands there, defeated. You walk through the door, closing it behind you. You let the concrete mask fall and you sigh. You're so tired. So damn tired.
You walk down the stairs of her apartment building. You stop at a landing, peeking over the railing below. What would it be like, to jump? You were a lot higher than last time. Maybe...no.
You shake those thoughts from your head.
Instead, you think about the lonely girl two floors up, left standing and hurt. You feel guilty, but mostly scared.
Because someone almost saw what's inside you.