Disallowed ⇔ Matty Healy

Chapter 15

~Della~

I stood, a shaking mess. Staring down at my messy, creased bed. Flashbacks of earlier crashed into my head to haunt me. The image of him on top of me, touching me, almost making me gag. Stupidity continuing to slap me across the face, repeatedly. Leaving me feeling small, weak and pathetic. So pathetic.

Stupid. Pathetic. Slut I am.

I couldn't stand how I was left feeling. I couldn't bare anyone knowing or seeing me like this. Knowing what I'd done. Knowing this was my own fault.

Why did I do it? I already knew what he'd done. Already knowing he wasn't happy with me anymore, because he'd been cheating. So why then, why did I decide to do it then? Allowing him to get what he wanted. For the point of what? For the sake of what?

To prove to him he didn't need to cheat, because I was now ready? Or because I loved him, and I'd always wanted to experience that intimacy with him. I knew without having to ask, that he was having the affair because of the fact I wasn't ready for sex. And that makes me feel even more sick and disgusted with myself. Because I stooped so low. For what? To be left with nothing. Nothing except shame and guilt.

Sex isn't supposed to happen that way. It isn't supposed to make you feel this way - Sick to your stomach and hating yourself. Sex is supposed to be intimate. Relaxed. Passionate?

That's how I'd always imagined it. That's exactly the way I wanted it to happen. But I got the complete opposite.

- - -

He sighed heavily, resting his hand on his hip and turned to face the door before speaking quickly, "I- look" I watched him closely, his shoulders rising and dropping quickly, "I've been seeing someone else" he rushed the words out so fast I wasn't a hundred percent if that's exactly what he said.

I refused to believe those words had just left his mouth. He- he wouldn't. He'd never do that to me. He loved me!

"What?" My voice broke through the silence, weak-like and shaken.

The pause between my last words to him, and the next of his, seemed a lifetime. I kept my gaze on him. Refusing to believe this was really happening. It can't of been. Nothing had been wrong with us lately. We were great. Perfect even. I love him. And- and he loved me.

I knelt up on the bed frantically. A sudden foreign feeling hit me in the chest, which caused a slight ache to build up and make it's way up to my throat. As though it was slowly, silently trying to choke me. "Ad? Please?" I whispered. My eyes now begging him to stop this. To not do what I knew was about to happen. I couldn't handle it.

Again he refused to speak. At that point, he couldn't bare to even look at me it seemed.

My bare feet scurried across my bedroom floor towards him in a mad rush. He wasn't doing this. I wasn't allowing him to do it. Not now. Not ever.

This wasn't supposed to happen tonight. I had everything planned and ready for us. Tonight was the night. The night for us. Our night. Not the night we were going to end.

"Y-you love me, right?" My arms crept around his neck. Needing to feel his skin on mine. Needing him close. Fearing I was quickly losing him.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed under his breath, before pulling away and creating a painful distance between us.

Why was this happening?

"I'm cheating on you, Della" he shouted bitterly, harshly. Like he had no remorse for the way he was making me feel.

I clenched my teeth, tightly. Trying to occupy my brain and get my mind to concentrate on that, rather than that ache in my chest that was now an unbearable pain. "But I love you" I reminded him pathetically.

I loved him. And I was losing him.

I had to do something. Anything.

I always secretly knew this would happen. He'd obviously been persuaded, enticed to something I wasn't yet willing to give away.

My virginity.

But if he'd just waited a little while longer, he'd have found out I was practically ready.

I was ready. I'd been ready a while now. And I'd spent most of the night, working myself up into a huge mess over the whole thing. Worried about it all going wrong. I needed our first time to be perfect. Memorable.

Was the sex really that important to him? Is that what all this was about?

He frowned across at me, as though what I'd just said was bullshit. I thought he knew what he meant to me and how I felt. I told him constantly in the past. Why was he acting like this? As though he was purposely set out to hurt and humiliate me.

I didn't get it. Any of it.

But I knew what I had to do. It was the only thing, I was sure of it. I had to show him what he meant to me. Prove to him I was the one for him.

I could be, and I could do anything he needed me to. Because that's how much I needed him.

I stalked towards him. Fighting with him for eye contact. He finally gave in and gave it to me.

I closed my eyes, swallowed a big breath of air and bit the bullet, telling him what I knew he needed to hear. . . "I'm ready"

His head shook. I feared he was silently telling me no. I didn't know what to do at that point. I panicked. "Don't mess me around, Della" He spat coldly. Crossing his arms over his chest, still keeping his attention to the side, away from me.

For god sake!

"I- I'm not!" My voice came out harsh, adamant. To prove to him. But I felt like I was still losing this battle. Losing him. I gave it one final attempt, wrapping my arms around him quickly, tightly and latched my lips onto his, as though I was starved of air, and he was my oxygen.

It was working... He was coming back to me.

. . . . . . .  But I now wish I'd of just suffered through the pain and suffocated. Because now the pain is far worse, and even harder to deal with. And I'm left drowning in shame.