71: 𝘏𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥

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Alice couldn't put into words what was going on inside of her.

The sudden emptiness, that had welled up in her chest and spread through her whole body, felt like waves of poison under which she was drowning helplessly.

She sat on the floor next to her bed, her head leaning back against the mattress as she listened to the silence of her room. She couldn't get up, even though she wanted to, but it felt as if she had lost the control over her own body and mind as soon as Rafe had walked out of the door.

Her dress - the one he had bought for her - still adorned her body, but by now it felt like it was crushing her alive.

It was as if it was literally stuck to her skin. As if sewn on stitch by stitch. As if every inch of the fabric was haunted by Rafe.

But it wasn't just the dress that felt like it was haunted by him. Her lips, her body and all the places he had ever touched felt as if they still belonged to him.

They were his. Every inch of her and she wasn't sure if it would ever be any different again.

She had lost herself in him without even realizing it. Had lost herself in a love that felt as if it had been the first real one in her life. One that she had believed would need some sort of miracle to break.

But it hadn't taken much.

Just one lie and the aftermath of the truth.

It was the feeling of absolute disgust with herself that finally made her drag herself into the bathroom, where she peeled the dress off her body.

She threw it into the corner and left it there without giving it a second glance before looking at herself in the mirror.

She hated the way she looked. Her make-up had blended with her tears and stained her eyelids black. It had taken the life right from her eyes. Her cheeks showed the exact paths of her tears, all of which had soaked the fabric of the blue dress, which now lay on the cold floor of the bathroom. And her body suddenly was...the worst reflection in the mirror.

The love she had felt for herself over the last few weeks had left with Rafe that night.

And all she wanted was to wash it all away. The disgust of looking at herself. The ruined make-up. The emptiness inside and every little thought that screamed his name.

His kisses.

His touch.

His scent.

Him.

She needed to get rid of him.

Without thinking about the late hour, she turned on the tap of her bathtub and pulled the last of her clothes off her body as the tub began to fill. It was goosebumps that ran over her body as she first set foot in the tub and slowly lowered herself into it. The water enveloped her up to her stomach in a rush, bringing warmth back to her as she let her head sink back against the edge and closed her eyes briefly.

She allowed her thoughts to take over.

And the first final realization that hit her was that Rafe had lied to her. She had no idea for how long. Maybe since the very beginning and their relationship had been based on a lie, or maybe only for a few weeks, but no matter how long it had really been, she had obviously been to blind to the point where she simply hadn't seen it. She hadn't realized what he was doing. Each time they had been together, he had always been the same Rafe. She had never realized that there was something different about him.

Maybe he had never even been coked up when he was with her, but that was probably just a secret wish that she would never express.

And somewhere she felt guilty.

If only she had paid more attention. If only she had taken a closer look, she could have helped him.

She would have helped him.

If he would have told her what he was going through, she would have done all she could to get him out of his mess.

Because it wasn't the thought of him doing coke that hurt her so much - even though it did - but the fact that he hadn't trusted her enough to confess it to her.

Because she had always tried not to see him as the bad person he might actually was somewhere...

R A F E

When Rafe's troubling thoughts caught up with him in his dreams that night, he shot up from his sleep with his heart almost beating out of his chest and found himself in the same place where he had fallen asleep earlier.

His bed. Alone, of course.

The blanket slid off his chest and down to his waistline as he sat up and ran a hand over his face. The shirt he was wearing was soaked in his sweat, the air in his room too thick and his body overheated.

He pulled the shirt over his head, groaning at the soreness of his limbs, and tossed it off the bed before leaning back on his hands.

It was quiet around him.

It was so quiet that Rafe could almost hear his heart pounding against his chest, pumping blood through his veins. The rushing blood drove up the heat in his body and made him continue to sweat as his gaze traveled around his room.

He just couldn't do it. He couldn't be alone, simply because he wasn't used to it anymore.

He pulled himself out of bed and staggered over to his phone, which was lying on his bedside table. He stared down at it - at the pitch black screen - until he tapped on it to check the time, but his gaze got caught on something entirely else.

On her. Alice, who still adorned the lock screen of his phone with her sweet smile.

God, he needed her.

Because as his mind grew increasingly louder, he knew that there were just some certain ways to get it quiet.

Hearing her voice would be one of them. To call her, to talk to her, to beg her to listen to him, even if it was only for a minute. But Rafe knew she wouldn't pick up if his name popped up on her screen.

Would she?

The longer he thought about calling her, the more stupid he found the idea. She definitely wouldn't answer.

And because he was so sure she wouldn't, he reached into the drawer of the bedside table instead of for his phone. With a shaky hand, he took the small plastic bag out of it and headed into his bathroom, where he locked the door behind him.

In the last few weeks, he had felt like he was okay. But maybe he wasn't after all. There were all those thoughts in his head and he wasn't sure if he could control them all alone. He was afraid...maybe even scared of what would happen, because he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

How much more of all this shit he could take.

As Rafe spilt some of the coke from the bag onto the counter and made a thin line, the loss of control over his own body slowly settled in.

Unsure of what he was doing, he took a step back and ran his hands through his stringy hair, looking at the white line on the counter.

It wasn't right. He knew it wasn't.

But his thoughts weren't right either. They didn't fell right, but no matter what he did, it was never right and he just couldn't go on like this.

Just for that night he wanted some peace. Some peace from the thoughts, which were haunted by her.

All Rafe wanted was to stop hearing all those voices in his head for this one night and he had no other choice, but to...silence them. 

A silence that reopened his personal vicious circle.

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