ANTI LOVE

1| murder.

The night seemed darker than ever with dark grey storm clouds lingering in the sky, concealing the stars and the moon; my trek across the campus seemed longer than ever, my heavy heart weighing down my every step. I adjusted the hood I had pulled up over my head, yanking it down further to hide the tears that were pooling in my eyes. I had known for as long as this sexual relationship had been transpiring that it wouldn't go any farther than just that: sex. So why did I continually allow myself to get hurt?

I quickened my pace at the beacon of light that was the campus cafe, a place I usually only inhabited in the mornings before classes. I didn't typically drink coffee at night preferring to stick to some sort of sleeping schedule but at the moment, I needed some coffee and some time to sort through my thoughts. I pushed open the door, and a rush of warmth and low lighting hit me. I blinked several times, noting the amount of people in the cafe. I double checked the time on the borrowed rose gold watch on my wrist; nearly 1 AM.

I shook my head, attempting to disregard the anxiety that wedged itself in my chest. Even if there was a good amount of people, there was no way anyone would pay me and my tears any attention anyways. From what I had gathered, college students were self centered and didn't necessarily pay any mind to people that they weren't friends with. I sidled into line, using my sleeve to wipe at my nose and beneath my eyes.

The menu board was written out in colorful chalk, some of the names of the drinks sounding like a completely foreign language. My eyes blurred from how long I stared, leaving me unable to read the titles of the frappuccinos and mochas and macchi-whatever-the-hell. I'd been so busy trying to reign in my tears, that I hadn't even noticed that I was now at the front of the line. The cashier glared a hole into my soul, her hazel eyes swirling with blue, green, and murder.

I shuffled my feet, shoving my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt. "Uh," I stuttered out, averting my eyes to the counter finding it friendlier than the cashier with ice for a heart. "A medium caramel latte. Please."

"Sure." The girl said and it almost sounded pleasant until she looked up, piercing me with her soul sucking, demonic glare. "That'll be $3.48."

I rooted through my pockets, throwing five dollar bill at her and practically skidded across the floor over to the other end of the counter to wait for my coffee. She didn't call after me about change, not that I expected her to, and even if she had, I would have pretended that I didn't hear her. Girls like her always intimidated me; the kind that seemed as if they could stomp out your entire existence in the bat of an eyelash, a flip of the hair. My sister was similar to that, and it was the reason we never truly got along in my opinion, but she disagreed and made it well known that she disagreed. My thoughts drifted off to my sister as I waited, only succeeding in souring my mood further.

"Pretty girls like you," a voice startled me, tearing me out of my thoughts so fast I had mental whiplash. "Should probably try to refrain from keeping their hearts on their sleeve."

My eyes finally settled on the girl standing next to me. Her deep blue eyes were flickering with amusement as she observed me, as if she found my interminable misery funny. Although her eyes had been the first thing to capture my attention, I forced myself to scan over the rest of her. She was slighter than me, but just barely, with her waist ribbon thin and her height being slightly shorter than my own. Unruly obsidian curls fell around her face and down her shoulders, a sharp contrast to her ivory skin. My cheeks burned red when I noticed that she must not be wearing a bra, apparent by the fact that I could make out nipple piercings through her thin T-shirt.

The girl's laughter at my blush caused me to tear my eyes away from her bust and focus on her nose that was decorated by a shiny septum piercing.

"Excuse me?" I questioned, referring to her previous statement. "What do you mean?"