Fix You.

[19]

I walk in my apartment, and slam the door behind me. I slide down the wall, land on my ass, and light cigarette.

I'm so confused. I think I love Dallas... I just, Steve was there and... I don't know. I don't like Steve. I don't. I don't. I don't.

I finish my cigarette, and then another, and another, and another, and maybe more.

I think about Dallas, and how broken he is. Am I prepared to try to fix him? What if he doesn't want to be fixed? What if I fail? What if I make it worse? What does he dream of at night? I do want to fix him... it hurts me to see him hurting. Is that love?

I finally check the time. 2am. I should go to sleep, but there are too many thoughts racing through my head.

I go lie down to try to calm down and relax.

• • • •

"Heather? Shit, you're asleep."

I open my eyes to see a tall figure walking away from my bedroom. Who the fuck got into my apartment?

I know who it is really, I just don't want it to be true.

I race down the hallway.

"Wait, I'm up." I say.

Dallas turns around.

"You look sexy." he says, a smirk forming on his face.

"Shut the fuck up, Dal."

"Jesus. I was giving you a compliment." He looks down at the coffee table, and grabs a cigarette.

"You gotta light?" he asks.

"What the fuck? You're just gonna walk in here like nothing happened?"

"What happened?"

"Jesus, get out. I'm not in the mood to deal with your shit."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Telling you to leave."

"Good. Now get out, I want to to back to bed."

He walks over to me and bends down so that his lips are brushing my neck.

"I could join you..."

"Shit, Dallas... "

He kisses my neck slowly, and then my lips. His hands go down my back and linger at my ass before they go to the back or my thighs to lift me up. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me to the bedroom and lays me down.

This time is different. It's slower and more passionate, with more emotions than just lust.

After, I lay on his chest, listening to his breathing slow.

"I love you." I say.