Goddamn Tragedy

I

He dreamed he was falling.

Falling down with such speed that the air in his lungs got stuck in his throat. His limbs hung still at his sides and his mouth split open without a single sound escaping.

He continued to fall and fall without ever seeing a beginning or end.

He woke up gasping. His voice stuck in his throat. A word stuck on the end of his tongue but lost along the way from his head to his lips. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he wondered if he was going to wake up the slender body next to him tangled in navy blue sheets.

He took a moment, composed himself and quickly threw his legs over the side of the bed. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep or exactly how. He remembered clutching the tan thigh behind him as he drove her into oblivion with a smirk on his face.

He rarely if ever fell asleep after going home with a woman.

He would lay with them until they fell asleep and then he would see himself out. So the fact he fell asleep caused him to feel completely vertigo.

As he stood from the bed and stretched causally in his naked form, the feeling of falling struck him. He clenched his eyes and allowed whatever was left in his body to escape. His dream bright as day in his mind.

He wondered what brought the dream on. He wondered what caused him to fall asleep.

If he had stopped drinking lagers with Monty Green when he had reached his limit (which was hard to reach at times), he would have been completely fine.

He squinted in the dimly lit room and reached for his grey t-shirt strung over the small dresser in the room before tugging up his jeans. He patted his phone in his pocket, along with his keys and his wallet before he headed for the door.

"Aren't you going to ask for my name?"

He cursed under his breath.

His fingers circled the doorknob. He didn't really care what her name was. He didn't have time for names. He didn't have time for feelings. He didn't care for them and they surely never cared for him in return.

He turned and watched her sit up in the bed. He would have smirked at the fact that she sat exposed with a grin on her face but he was annoyed for falling asleep and even more annoyed for being caught leaving.

He shrugged and turned back toward the door. He smirked when he heard her call him an asshole as he made his way out.

...

It was just about six-thirty in the morning when he got back into his car. He patted his face and shook the sleep in his eyes as he pushed the key into the ignition. It was Friday, which meant he had to work at the country club later in the day.

He didn't feel like being around rich snobs and he surely didn't feel like wearing a tux but a job was a job and he had bills to pay.

He drove toward the small convenient store five miles away from his apartment. He picked up a small coffee and a box of the doughnuts Octavia liked.

The thought of his sister caused a small frown to make its way toward his face.

If there was anyone in the world who could make him feel something, it was Octavia Blake. She was tough as nails with just the right touch of softness. She kept all of his secrets and in return loved him for all his faults. However, she had been shutting him out for the past week. He wasn't entirely sure why, well that was a lie but he wasn't sure why she was still ignoring him.

It wasn't his fault that he lost his temper on her stupid boyfriend (although it kind of was).

He felt the lack of sleep in his bones as he climbed up the stairs toward his apartment. It wasn't much of anything but he was proud of himself for being able to afford it. It was barely enough room for one person but they made it work.