December—Cannes
"Good morning," Corin drops all of his weight on Maeva's back.
Her body vibrates with a groan as she turns a drowsy glare his way, "what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Waking you up. There are things to do, and showers to take, and shirts to return."
"You know there are much more efficient ways to accomplish this goal?"
He rolls her into his chest with a laugh, "mhm, but they aren't nearly as entertaining," Corin presses his smile under her jaw, "come on, get up, I want to go eat."
"No, stay with me just a little bit longer," she clings to his body, words a sweet, warm murmur against his shoulder, "I don't want you to go yet."
He tilts her face up and meets her pleading dark eyes, knowing full well that his are pleading back, "I wasn't planning on leaving you. Come with me."
She doesn't hold his gaze for long, curling into his chest so her hair brushes his skin and her breaths hit him right in the dip of his collarbone. His jaw tightens before the words come out, knowing them already, steeling himself against them.
"Corin, you know we shouldn't—"
He pushes away from her before she can finish, "don't, Maeva, I don't want to hear it." Corin stands and turns away from her.
Her eyes cut up to him; he can feel the cold coming from them, "if you know you don't like the answer, you shouldn't ask the question."
"Right, because it will always be the same. Because nothing will ever be enough," he works his hands through his hair and murmurs, almost to himself, wanting her to hear it, "I'm so tired of this shit."
He stares at the red painting still on the floor, the longing in it that never seems to leave him. The anger in it that he hadn't felt before, but twists in his chest now.
Maeva rustles to her feet behind him, "what shit?"
"This wishy washy pretending shit you keep pulling on me," he turns and glares back at her, "I'm tired of it. In fact, I'm done with it."
"Pulling on you?" Her hands curl at her sides as she steps closer, "I'm not pulling anything on you. You know how this works, you know the rules."
"I don't want rules, I want you!"
"You don't get everything you want!" She says, "I have made it very clear from the beginning that this is temporary, that it does not extend beyond certain boundaries. It is not my fault you got into something you couldn't handle."
"I'm sorry, and just what beginning was that?" He asks, "the first time we had sex? When you said it was one time?" He ticks the moments off on his fingers, "the night in California? When you gave me no rules and told me we could talk when I got back? Or last night? You haven't set any actual boundaries, or given me any reasons!"
She is only a few feet away now, flushed, hollering, "I don't need to give you reasons! You know I don't want more than this, Corin, and you need to accept that!" Her knuckles turn white as she squeezes them.
"No, Maeva, I don't know!"
He sees her eyes widen and steps back, taking a slow breath as he rubs his temples. He absurdly remembers that he hasn't taken his medication in two days.
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The Anatomy of Emotion
RomanceRock vocalist Corin Olivier has everything he's ever wanted. His best friends, his nice soap, and every night, he gets to sing his heart out to thousands. That's what he lives for, all he needs. But, there's always been that one thing. His perfect...