The Alliances We Make (Twisted Thoughts)

The Fine Art of Keeping up with the Bullshit

Author's Note

Hi Ppl! I wanted to say a few words to you all. I firstly want to thank you kindly for being so supportive and patient with me. I understand that I often can't write as frequently as I can running my own business and two other careers, but I have never forgotten about my stories and the amazing people that read them. 

I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to be published. As most of you would have heard my latest chapters for Twisted Thoughts and Destined Path were told couldn't be published and were heavily reviewed and scrutinized, it kept getting flagged and reported. I'm so glad to FINALLY be able to upload this chapter I finished writing MONTHS ago. 

I hope everyone loves the chapter and what it ended up as. Thank you once more for waiting for this new chapter. All my love LMHxx

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The clock tortured me. Every tick, a slice on my skin, like an irritating papercut. He wasn't taking the hint. My parents were going to be home soon, he doesn't usually stay long that I've never thought about it. They'll be home soon. I haven't said anything. He doesn't know that they'd be here any moment. If I said something would he move from the bed? Or would he insist on meeting them? Which was worse? I didn't know. They didn't know about him. They didn't know about any of them. I couldn't stop staring at the clock. Every tick pulled at my heart like an anxious tic. Move. Just leave. Leave. Yet he sat. Just playing on his phone, answering texts. He's probably messaging his sister. His family. What about my family? God, I hope he hasn't said anything to them. Is he telling them that he's here? Now? My heart raced. He needed to leave. Just leave! I stormed out of the room, slamming the door on my way out. – M x 

Alchemy

I want to cry; but I have shit to do. My muffled groan was masked by the loud rush of the shower, my free hand slipped as my nails scraped on the tiled walls, trying to grip on as my body shuttered. The thick fog of the shower steam made it difficult to breathe under the hot water. I was playing a dangerous game, one that I seemed to grow more confident in playing the more I did it. Although, the fear of my boyfriend catching me masturbating in the shower with my waterproof vibrator set on high was kind of a turn on. Even if I knew it would end badly, and most unquestionably not the way I wanted it to. A girl can dream though, she could close her eyes and picture it. Those pale greenish eyes gazing longingly down my tall, wet body, framed by those long dark eyelashes. Hard, firm muscles stretched over a 5'11" frame, hairless and meticulously maintained. Those dark brown locks pushed back from that chiselled face like a Disney Prince. He'd invite himself in and join me.

Only that would never happen. He hasn't even spoken more than a few sentences to me since our fight a week ago. He would walk in and then berate me on how gross and slutty it was for me to masturbate in the shower, as if he doesn't jerk off in it every single morning before work. As if he doesn't make me suck him off in here if we happen to be sharing the bathroom. He's lecture me on how I'm destroying my body, and that it was unhealthy and induced my period. All this crap that he finds on late night internet searches. Michael was obsessed with second hand information. He won't believe one person telling him something, it has to come from like ten anonymous sources and tone deaf YouTube videos.

Regardless, I was getting the shower all to myself soon. He was leaving for four days for work, going to Italy, and already every single detail of his trip was written down. I had heard him watch so many videos about everything relating to Italy that you'd think he was obsessive.