Calculated Coincidence

Forty Six

*WARNING: sexual content*

LIAM SMITH

A couple of unbearable days of me and my one and only being apart pass. I try to give her space and not follow her anywhere. I've surprisingly had restraint and kept my word about not spying on her through the cameras. All that is left for me is her blessing me, and others unfortunately, by posting photos of herself on her social media accounts.

I text her everyday and pray for her to deem me worthy of her reply but the cruel woman never does. Sometimes I call her, knowing she won't pick up but it makes me happy to let her know that I'm constantly thinking about her.

Alessia doesn't leave my mind. I think of her laughing, think of her crying. Smiling and pouting. Shouting at me and moaning my name. I miss her hypnotic voice and her addictive touch. I dream about her close to me and hope she'd appear in the same room as me.

I wish we could go back to the times when she'd prepare our coffee while I make our breakfast. To the time when we went on a walk and I asked her to be my girlfriend. When she'd tease me about Hunter being my friend.

I love that brave, confident and bold woman, and I feel as if I'm slowly dying without her. It's takes effort to function without her by my side, not knowing what she's doing or who she's with in that current moment.

Her things lying around constantly remind me of when she lived here. Her toothbrush, makeup, clothes, her side of the bed. The woman left a cup with her leftover coffee, a lipstick stain on it and I haven't washed it since.
I'm not staying with you.

I leave these things as they are to have a false sense of my love still being here with me. My brows furrow as I stare at the cup in front of me.
We're over.

Standing up from the couch, I head for one of her heels which lays beside the door. Taking the black leather into my hand, I rub my thumb across it. A lump forms in my throat.
I'm breaking up with you.

I head to the bedroom and sit on the large bed. Beside me lays her lipstick and white bralette. My chest feels tight. She looked so beautiful the day we met. Her tanned body covered with white lace. Chocolate eyes bright and daring.
I don't love you.

My breathing's heavy as I bring the top she wore recently to my wet face and breathe her vanilla scent in. The sweet memory of me pulling it off her, revealing her delicate curves and worshiping her soft skin greets me. Alessias throaty moans and hot breaths.
I don't love you.

I unzip my pants as I feel myself getting hard. I remind myself how she held onto me tightly as I sank into her warm body. How she whimpered and demanded I kiss her. Pulling out my erection, I start moving my hand up and down the length.
I don't love you.

I almost hear her moaning my name, feel her nails biting into my skin. I groan as I feel my fulfilment coming closer. I want my darling Alessia to gaze at me with chocolate eyes full of desire once again. To smile at me widely expressing her happiness.
I love her so much.

It doesn't take me long to come onto my hand. Chest moving furiously with heavy breaths, blood rushing to my wet cheeks. I feel empty, as if my heart is outside my body. And I miss that heart with my whole being.

My plan was to give her space and let her emotions calm. To let my Alessia remind herself of the life before us, the cold, shallow, lonely life before the passionate, inseparable, perfect us. To allow the dreadful seed of longing plant itself inside her beautiful, crying soul and give it a chance to grow into a gaping hole of agonising craving.

I wanted her to feel the same gut wrenching need I have for her. The blinding hunger. Make her lose her mind over wondering about me. Where I am, what I'm doing, who I'm with. Go mad from thinking about the mere possibility of me with someone other than her.

However I'm not known for my patience when it comes my darling Alessia. It's only been a couple of days and I'm losing my twisted mind. There's no helping it, I have to do something. I will make her come to me.
I'm getting back my Alessia.