Different infliction, when you say my name. Kiss me, but your kiss don't taste the same.
It was like he wasn't here.
His arms were wrapped loosely along my body, the soft thumps of his heart trying to lull me into slumber. Days and nights like these would've held my body in comfort and I surrendered so easily into his touch, but tonight was different. His heart is still beating the same rhythm, thump, thump, thump, but it's different. It didn't give me the comforting feeling like it used to. In fact, it made me feel like I was in pain.
It was like he wasn't here.
When I looked up to his face, he looked so peaceful. His forehead didn't crease like he was facing troubles or anything, and his lips were pursed and pink and all I could think of was the times they met with my forehead, my lips, and every single inch of my body. It's like he had no worries, it's like it didn't bother him when he woke up with a numbing arm and a girl beside him. But the way he's sleeping right now, right beside me, should've made me feel happy. It should've made me feel like I'm safe and comfortable. But instead, I feel the exact opposite.
It was like he wasn't here.
I don't want to think about it. I don't even want to bring it up. I don't want to overthink it. But it's not like we've already had labels on each other. But I couldn't help but feel curious. It was an accident when I took his phone instead of mine. It was an accident when I opened his phone and saw a name and the words underneath it. It was an accident when I felt a few tears escape my eyes, my anger running through my veins, and turn his phone off like I didn't see anything. And now, I can't even look at him straight without thinking if he's going to leave at any minute.
It was like he wasn't here.
I wonder if he's thinking about her right now. I wonder if he's dreaming about her right now. I wonder if every time we sleep in this bed, he wonders about the feeling of her fingertips running over his skin, his tattoos, his hair, his lips. Her hands. His hands. Her lips. His lips. I feel sick just thinking about it. It's like she's right beside him, like she's the one being held like this, like she's the one tracing the pads of her fingers onto his skin, like I was invisible.
It was like he wasn't here. It's like I can't find him beside me; it's like he's stuck elsewhere when his body is holding me close like this. The insecurity and paranoia is eating me alive, because even if he has his arms wrapped around me, I'm afraid that it won't feel as good as when he wraps his arms around her.
Is it real or am I going out of my mind?
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SHORT STORY WADDUP
THIS IS BASED OFF OF SELENA GOMEZ'S SONG "PERFECT" AND MY HEART ACHES JUST LISTENING TO THAT SONG SO YEAH HERE IT IS
I DON'T HAVE ANYONE IN MIND FOR THIS STORY, AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE A NAME FOR THE CHARACTER. I'D LIKE TO GIVE YOU GUYS A FEEL OF STEPPING IN THIS CHARACTER'S SHOES USING YOUR OWN POINT OF VIEW
And if you think that she's overthinking stuff and she's paranoid, hun, what would you feel if your partner's been cheating on you, and you're not sure if it's true or not?
Exactly.
SO YEAH HAPPY HOLIDAYS HAPPY NEW YEAR AND HAVE A WONDERFUL GIFT FROM MEEEE
YOU ARE READING
lipstick || h.s. short story
Fanfiction"Maybe I should be more like her." In which she vies for the heart of her lover, even when she knows he's got someone else on his mind.
