He's eating a bowl of soup I cooked and left in the fridge a couple of days ago.
He used to love my cooking. Now I don't know his preferences all that much anymore.
A lot of things can change over the course of five years.
"What have you been up to these couple of years?" I ask a bit insecurely.
"Nothing much," came his short reply.
"Right." I'm getting frustrated. I have a lot of questions yet I'm not sure I'm ready to hear all the answers.
"Well maybe you want to tell me about your life in Moscow?" I try to probe again.
"There's nothing much to tell," he sounds irritated which instantly spikes my anger.
"Oh." I try to keep my cool. You don't want to talk to me? Then don't. Who fucking cares if you share anything with me or not. I certainly don't give a shit.
Denial.
"You're looking at me as if you're planning my murder, beautiful," he interrupts my thoughts with a hint of amusement in his voice. My heart skips a beat at the endearing word he chooses to call me. Asshole.
"Why are you back?" I finally gather enough courage to ask the question I've been meaning to ask since the start.
Soundless. He doesn't look into my eyes.
His silence is louder and more painful than any words he could have chosen to say to me. But I embrace the pain. It's familiar. It's what I know how to cope with best.
"Get out," I grit through my teeth as strongly as I can. "Get the fuck out of my apartment!" I raise my voice. My hands are shaking. I'm losing control. Please don't leave me. Please, please, don't listen to me.
Silence. He left again.
YOU ARE READING
See You Bleed | ✓
Romance"I was too young to know how to love you." "I just want to see you bleed." A story of a man and a woman who hurt each other in their destructive and all-consuming love. • Explicit language. • Drug addiction. Copyright © 2020.
