The Safety Pin Affair

o n e - that's not how this works

he says, "oh baby,
beggin' you to save me,
well lately i like 'em c r a z y . . ."

▪️▫️▪️

He pushed himself up from where he was previously lying beside me out of breath, leaning over the edge of my bed. I could hear him mutter something quietly as he searched around with one arm extended to the floor – most likely looking for his clothes.

I sighed, leaning up onto my elbows and watching him. His shoulders and upper back flexed as he moved around for the articles of his previously shed clothing, and all I could do was blink in a bored manner.

This is usually the part when they leave. Actually, it should have been much earlier than this because for the past twenty minutes, the two of us just laid in my bed with a lame conversation going on.

I have a feeling that he doesn't really want to leave – but he has to.

"Alright, Chip. Thanks for that, it was fun," I raised my eyebrows at his back that's facing me, trying to initiate the fact that I want him to go without being a bitch about it.

He turned around and smirked at me, a playful look on his face.

"It's Chuck," he corrected.

"Yeah, Chuck," I emphasized his name. I picked up my crumpled shirt beside me and slid it on, pulling my unruly hair into a bun afterwards. "Thanks."

I heard him chuckle as he stood up, flashing me his bare ass when he did. He pulled on his jeans first, fastening the belt around his hips and making sure they were on just right, then turned to me as he buttoned up his shirt.

"So when will I see you again?"

Fuck.

The one line I was dreading.

I had to press my lips together in a fine line to restrain from groaning out loud. I looked down at my legs that are stretched out in front of me, contemplating what to say next. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.

So I glanced up at him with the sweetest smile I could muster and batted my lashes.

"Chuck, that's not how this works. That's not how I work," I gave it to him gently. He just raised an eyebrow in return, buttoning his last button.

I sighed loudly this time, sitting up all the way. He kept staring at me as he put on his shoes, as he fixed his hair, and as he made sure he had his phone and wallet in the pockets of his jeans. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Vic, come on-"

"I warned you, okay? I don't do repeats because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that guys tend to get really attached. And I don't do that," I said harshly now. It's the only way to get him to understand.

"But you've done repeats before?" He questioned me, knitting his thick brows together.

"With very few, select people. Besides, the last time that happened was about two years ago. Things are different now," I shrugged, standing up as my shirt fell to my hips.