Another SHORT mess™
(Agnetha's POV)
I rolled, again, to the other side of the bed, sleep not even crawling into my veins. It was past midnight already, I guessed. I just rose up. Frida still wasn't home. I reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on, giving out a heavy sigh afterwards. I leaned my head back against the bed's headboard.
Frida had been like this for months already. She often went out at night, making excuses--from meeting up with an old friend, to having fun alone in clubs at central Stockholm. I simply let her be, and honestly, I myself was clueless why I did that. Still, she was just playing it cool, as if it was nothing to me. There's someone else already, my instincts told me, but I always brushed it off my head.
Really, how foolish are you, Agnetha? I could clearly see the end coming, but I kept on pretending to be blind, because it was too painful to accept. It hurt too much to think that maybe everything Frida and I had from the start was just a game, and I was eventually losing. Even so, I still had the hope. It wouldn't end this soon and this way. Everything would still turn out fine.
A sound from a car engine disrupted me from thinking. She was here.
I immediately turned the lamp off and laid down again, the sheets covering my toes up to my head. My back faced the door's side. A few minutes had passed, and I finally heard our bedroom door open. I didn't make a move, trying to feel and predict what was about to happen. Usually, as soon as Frida entered the room, she would lie down beside me, "unveil" me from the sheets, hug me and put kisses to my neck until I "wake" up.
But as soon as the door was closed, I felt my heart froze.
I heard footsteps, not of just one, but two persons, followed by sounds of kisses. I felt my heart shatter. My whole body turned ice cold. I held myself back for a few seconds, until my throat began to hurt badly from the sobs I was preventing to spill out. This is it. I was right all along.
"How could you?" I said, standing up on my feet, that quick.
I saw her and that bitch break away from each other, and judging their looks, they were too intoxicated. My legs and hands were violently shaking and I felt like I would collapse anytime soon, but I did my best to walk near them.
I stared at her green eyes, and saw nothing but flashbacks. I remembered the day when she asked me to be hers and I said yes. I remembered the way she always kissed me when she came home from the studio. I remembered how she kept me in her arms when I was too scared. The memories were flooding, leaving me more overwhelmed. They felt too good to be true.
"In our own house, and in our own room. Wow, Frida." As soon as I finished my sentence, all of the sobs came out. I couldn't breathe, I didn't know what to do.
Frida put a hand against her head.
"Shit," she muttered, the smell of alcohol evident on her, "Agnetha, I love you, I can ex--"
"Stop it, Anni-Frid! I'm tired of this fucking game! You played me from the start, and unfortunately, it was too late when I realized that!" I screamed, cutting her off, I couldn't think straight. Everything in the past and in that moment seemed unbelievable already. I thought I couldn't stand to hear more from her, every word felt like a stab in the heart. Still I couldn't help but to wonder if she really did love me, or she just wanted someone to play her silly game with, after that sad heartbreak she came from.
"As you said in your song, I know there's something going on," I laughed sarcastically, "but I love you too much that I i choose to ignore it. I believed you never could."
Frida started to cry, but I didn't care. Yes, she was drunk, but she knew what she was doing. If she didn't really want to hurt me, then she wouldn't.
With all the remaining strength I had, I slapped her right on the face.
"That's for playing with me."
I slapped her again.
"That's for making me feel like a damn fool."
And for the very last time, I did it again.
"And that's for dealing for my heart . Thank you for a wonderful year, Anni-Frid." I said, my voice cracking. "The game is finished."
I quickly walked out of the bedroom afterwards, grabbed my keys, left the house and drove to nowhere. From then on I saw Frida not as an ex-lover, but as someone who took my heart away, for I wilingly gave it to her.
And now, the queen still has it.
