from the inside// Falice Au's

my personal kind of hell. (m)

Even as a teenager, he was always thinking how it would be to wake up next to her.
To have have her always next to him in the morning, to feel her hot skin against his, to feel her kisses covering his entire face , to feel her heart beating against his chest, her legs tangled with his, to feel her hands touching him everywhere, and to be able to touch her back, to hug her till she's breathless and waking up, her blue shinning eyes full of hope to be first thing he sees in the morning.
Now, that he is a married grown man, with two kids, a wife that isn't her, a wife that took their daughter and ran away from him because she was done living in lies and illusions, and now that her husband is a serial killer, one of her daughters is a teen mom, and another is dating his son, now he still dreams about her every night. He remembers her smell so good, that he feels it with him everywhere, and mostly on his bed sheets. It's been mouths since she wasn't in his bedroom. Bedroom that used to be theirs when they were just teens with big hopes and dreams. He often thinks that theirs brokedown lives are proof that they were meant to be.

But it was her chioce.

And he hated her for making it.

He hated her for leaving him. 

He hated her for giving up on their future.

Until one day

He realized

That she hated him more.

Why?

He doesn't know.

He never asked.

He never had a chance to ask.

But she sure as hell hated him. And he knew. All those seprent attacking articles that she was writing in Riverdale Register, the magazine that she and her...husband owned... all those articles were a message. She was telling him, that she hates him, she hates her roots, and everything that reminded her of them. But mosty, she hated that she was happier there, than in her perfect northside life.

But years have passed. He never saw her. And he missed her. He missed her face, her smart mouth, the way she was driving him crazy.
For him, she was the most beautiful woman on the earth. He hated himself for thinking of her like that. And even more, he hated himself because when he was looking at his wife, he was thinking about her, when he was kissing or touching his wife, he was thinking of her. He couldn't eve picture kissing her when he was kissing another women. 

She was different, she tasted like hell and heaven all mixed up, and he loved it. 

He loved her.

And again years have passed. Without her his existence just seemed so irrelevant, he was living in vain. He needed her so much. But all he had was a bottle of cheap whiskey. And for now it was enough.

One day when Jellybean just got home from school and they sere both sitting in the kitchen eating pancakes mom left in the morning, his daughter asked him what he was always afraid to give her answer to.

　　　　　 — Daddy, who is Alice ?

And his heart stopped. What ? How does she knows about her. He was probably looking stupid. Even more stupid than when he was drunk and couldn't even stay on his own feet. Is how she made him feel. She disappeared a long time ago, but she was still controlling his life.