Prideful Shirts

6: Oh.

Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.
~ Oscar Wilde

It's been a week, and every day after work, Imogen is out with her girlfriend Amara. I hate to admit it, but it's made me bitter and sad. Imogen and I used to hang out and talk to each other a lot more than we do now. I feel like my heart has been broken and I've lost my best friend in one fell swoop, and I am not handling it well.

I've been drinking a lot. Imogen doesn't notice.

It's Saturday again. I've been taking to Luben for a little while every day and even though he doesn't know it, he has been helping me during this week. He makes me feel like I'm not totally alone, which is something I need. I'm glad I met him.

Like I promised last Saturday, I am going back to the club. This time, for obvious reasons, Imogen isn't going with me. I get ready, not putting as much effort in as I did last week. I simply slip on a pair of black jeans and my panromantic asexual shirt, pulling on my black Docs as well. I also wear a plain black hoodie I have. I brush my hair and pull it up in a ponytail. The only makeup I bother with is some foundation and under-eye concealer to hide the bags I have under my eyes since I haven't really slept that well in a week. I nearly leave without any jewelry, but at the last minute I choose to slip on my silver birthstone ring. I rarely leave the house without it, it's a great comfort.

When I am leaving the apartment, I nearly call out to Imogen to tell her I'm leaving, but then I remember she's not here. I look into the apartment and sigh before closing the door behind me. I walk to the building with my head down. I try not to think about Imogen, but she's a constant, painful presence in my thoughts. She haunts me, similar to the way a poltergeist haunts a house. You can sense its presence, but you never see it, just what it does. Her dirty coffee mug always seems to stare at me whenever I do the dishes.

When I arrive in the room, I look around and don't see Luben anywhere. I bring my gaze back down to the floor and walk over to the general area where I met him a week ago, hoping he will arrive soon. Part of me also hopes that nobody else will approach me. I'm not in the mood to meet new people.

Thankfully, I don't have to wait long for Luben to show up, and while I was waiting, nobody came up to me. When Luben sees me, a wide grin crosses his face and he walks over. With each step he takes closer to me, his smile seems to become dimmer and dimmer. When he's standing directly in front of me, he grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the exit.

"Luben, what are you doing?" I ask, more curious than angry or upset.

"You're upset. We're getting out of here to talk." He answers. I shake my head and move my hand in the same motion as I respond,

"Oh, no, that's not necessary. Don't worry about me Luben. I'm fine, really, I am." He just huffs in response. It's clear he doesn't believe me. I decide to go along with it, conceding to him leading me with a sigh. I move my hand so instead of just clinging onto my wrist, he's holding my hand. This way, it looks more natural and less forced. At the action, Luben abruptly stops and looks down at our hands. I notice a light blush scatter over his cheeks, causing me to smirk mischievously.

"Oh shut up, Freya." He says before I can even tease him.

"I didn't even say anything!" I exclaim, a bit of amusement in my voice. Without realizing, Luben is making me happy. He's distracting me from thinking about Imogen, even if it's only for a brief time. I still appreciate it.

"I know you were going to, so just don't, alright?" Luben commands, making me laugh slightly. I concede,

"Alright." I put my hands up in surrender, dragging his right hand along with my left one while I do. His blush darkens slightly when he sees our hands together again, and Luben then rapidly turns his head away from looking in my direction.