Love Me Deathly

Meet again

The last person I expected to see there was you. Standing by Luka's kitchen counter, sipping at whatever was in my cup, mind a mess, my gaze landed on you and froze there. You saw me, then your friend did, and their friend did. The three of you stared, and words, unrecognisable, left all three sets of lips. I wished I could hear what you were saying, so my mind wouldn't tell me you still hated me. It was probably right.

Luka was known for throwing crazy parties; always some drama, or gossip tidbit, getting the community buzzing for weeks, sometimes months. I didn't know he knew you, didn't know you knew him. I wore your favourite colour that night. It's like the gods knew and whispered to me plans for my own destruction. The sight of your face assaulted me with memories of that night; another man's saliva sitting on my mouth instead of yours, tears chasing you before my legs could. Fuck. You remembered it too, I'm sure. I wanted to run but couldn't. Better to own it and let you punish me with your eyes. But the sight of me must have sickened you, because you turned from me, releasing me, and I was without you again.

I need some fucking air, I thought to myself, spotting french doors leading to a garden at the other end of the kitchen, where you stood. I'd have to pass you to get out; the gods had written out my torture beforehand. Downing my drink, I averted my gaze and flitted around the drunk bodies here and there, tapping a waist or two as I moved. Though I refused to look at you again, your face sat behind my lids, phantom image pressed against me unwillingly. Phantom arms wrapped around me, strong as ever, and the ghost of your chest pressed against the back of my shoulders. Surely it wasn't only me. Surely, I wasn't alone? I remembered how desperate you were for me, before that night, how your face contorted with desire for me. I was sure then, you'd find me.

When I walked past you, and stepped through the double doors into the dark, I hoped you would follow. I put the blunt I had taken from a guy I wasn't interested in, earlier in the night, between my lips and fished out my lighter. Just as I flicked the ignition, I saw the light hair on your head glimmer in the moonlight, as your body bathed in the darkness.

'You still smoke?' you murmured as you came closer, leaning one shoulder against the wall beside me, facing me.

'Only at parties.' I replied, still struggling with the lighter.
You took it from me, and like everything always did, it yielded to you and lit. I bent over to catch the flame as you spoke.
'Who'd you get it from?'
I inhaled before I replied. 'Some guy I met earlier.'
'Did you fuck him?'
My heart thumped at the sound of those words, the accusation.
'No.'
You hummed in response.
I wasn't sure if you believed me. Did it matter?
'How do you know Luka?' I asked.

'I don't.' you said, shrugging your shoulders.
Your head rested against the wall then, and as you looked down at me, the little light danced down from the moon onto your skin and into your eyes, too beautiful to look away from. 'One of the guys I'm with knows him.'
I nodded slowly.

'How do you know him?' you continued. 'Are you fucking him?'

'Don't be an asshole.' I said, turning away from you and inhaling again.
'I shouldn't be an asshole to you?'

I could hear the smile in your voice, and I turned back to see the anger you barely held back, shining on your teeth, as you bared them.

'I shouldn't be an asshole to you?' you said, a second time.
I was suddenly afraid; could feel the fear bubbling up in my abdomen.

You looked down at my lips as you murmured then, for the third time, 'I shouldn't be an asshole to you?'

I wondered what you were thinking. A moment passed.

'You look so pretty tonight.' you said, eyes on mine, leaning closer. I was confused.

'What are you doing right now?'

'Just say thank you.'

'No, what are you doing?'

'I'm not doing anything.' you said, a dangerous edge to your voice.

'Ok so why did you follow me outside?'

'Because you wanted me to.'

'How would you know that?'

'Because I know you.' A chesty warmth surrounded your words as you said it. It struck me.

I turned around and inhaled from the blunt again. Blowing smoke out into the cool breeze and watching it dissipate into nothingness.

'Want some?' I offered the blunt to you without facing you.

'Do I want some of the weed you got after fucking some idiot? No.'

'I didn't fuck him.'

You laughed, but the sound wasn't pleasant.
'If I smoke that, I might listen to the voices telling me to put my hands around your neck and squeeze.'

'You have voices telling you to hurt me?' I asked, fear rising in my stomach again. The night crept up on me then, with a promise of death on its tongue. The sound of muffled party bled out into the garden, but it couldn't drown out midnight's silence.

You said nothing as you reached out a large hand and tucked a stray braid behind my ear, leaving it there a little too long, while I held my breath, releasing it only when your hand left my face.

'Do it, then.' I said.

'No.' you sighed heavily.

'Does my neck not look squeezable anymore?'

'You're insane.'

'You still want me.'

That gave you pause.

'Is that why you wanted to talk? To confirm it?' you asked as you stepped closer to me.

I couldn't say yes.

'No.'

'You're a fucking liar, Mia.'

I missed the way you said my name.

'I know.'