Flashbacks in Bold Italics
Explicit Content (just a teeny bit; nothing too much)I look terrible, I thought, staring at my reflection in the bathroom. Bloodshot red eyes, messed up hair, and a runny nose is what's taken over. All the crying I did from last night up to this point is almost laughable, in a sad way. Almost a day has passed already since he left. How will I manage more days without him being here?
Guaranteed, when the night is over, he won't be heading upstairs with me. He'll be gone again. I'm not sure I'll be able to take it.
My mind drifted to yesterday, and even as I think about it, I'm completely and utterly drained. I can't even cry anymore. But the sadness sits numbly.
When I hear the door close behind me, my legs give out, making me fall on the ground in shock. Did that really just happen? I blink away the tears, yet they kept coming like an endless stream down my face. I cover my mouth and let it out. I cry so much that I could barely even breathe.
Goodness, I'm so ashamed of myself. And, the look of Blaine's face is one I never wanted to see again. All because I couldn't keep my damn mouth shut.
I managed to crawl into the bed, laying on Blaine's side. Besides using the restroom, I barely get out of it from then on. I couldn't stomach any sort of food for the rest of the night. My appetite was gone. I didn't want to do anything but wallow in guilt. Naps come periodically, but when I wake from each one, I remember what happened and start crying again.
He hasn't called or text once. And why should he? I don't deserve it, yet I still constantly check my phone to see if a message would miraculously appear. I've also tried to call him throughout the rest of the day when I was up, but the phone goes straight to voicemail.
The time read 10 p.m. Seven hours since he left. What is he doing right now? Is he safe? Is he thinking of me as much as I am of him?
Blaine surrounded the condo. His scent is marked everywhere. I clutch onto it.
The pounding on my head is almost unbearable. The amount of headache medicine I've taken was no good. Sleep was the next best thing at this point. I shut my eyes, in hope that when I wake tomorrow, life would be back to normal. That Blaine would be here in bed with me. That all of this was just a nightmare.
But it wasn't.
A dejected sigh escaped my lips as I focus on freshening up. Even being in this bathroom, his presence surrounds me. I imagine him sitting on the bathroom counter, watching me as I get ready for my day, as I do so right now.
"Why does me putting on make-up interest you so much?" I asked, peeking at him from my peripheral. Blaine does this on occasion. When I wake up and go to the bathroom, he comes in a couple minutes later and makes himself comfortable on the counter.
"I don't know. I like almost anything you do, so maybe that's the reason," he answered, handing me my comb. Smiling at him, I comb out some tangles in my hair. "Have you thought about cutting your hair?"
"Uh, not really, no. It's always been to the middle of my back. Why?"
He shrugs. "I think it'd be sexy."
"You think everything about me is sexy," I smirked at him. "But, I'm not surprised."
I know I always look good, especially for him.
He jumped off the counter, and comes behind me. He lowers his face to my neck. On instinct, I lean my head to side, giving him more access. His soft lips press against my skin. I let out a sigh of pleasure. He trails kisses from my neck to the back of my ear and circles his arms around my waist.
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FlAvor
RomanceFlA·vor. noun. A distinct taste. A new nightclub. Attraction. Addiction. Adrienne. When 21-year-old Adrienne Michaels broke up with her boyfriend, Darren Smith, she couldn't believe how everything they built together fell apart. She decided that...