Black Beauty (Z.A. Love Story// Explicit)

11// Alone in My Apartment

   I have 2k reads on this story, and like 5 reads on my Lana Del Rey story, 'Mermaid Motel'. Go read it please.

   I woke up in the morning feeling cold as usual. My pale fingers made me cringe as they touched my thighs.

   I had fallen asleep on the couch. I immediately remembered what I had drempt about. It was a dream with Zach in it.

   I dreamed that I was in his arms as we layed in bed together. I couldn't recall if he or I was wearing clothing. I would like to think that we weren't. He kissed my neck and my shoulders as I would bury my face in his almost black hair. It was a beautiful dream while it lasted, but I was now back to shitty reality.

   My legs were cold, and my whole body was hesitant to even leave my depressing nest I had made on the couch last night.

   I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was tired as it usually is, and I must have bitten my lips while I was sleeping. Only I knew that I did that whenever I had my own private, sexual dreams. My lips were lined with dried blood.

Zach is worth bloody lips though.

   I washed my face, then went to the bedroom to claim my makeup bag and the outfit I would wear.

Today is a black kind of day.

   My stomach grumbled, and my cold stomach wanted something to eat. I didn't even know what I want.

   I looked into the refrigerator where I was just met with dissapointment; a few small eggs, probably expired orange juice and milk, and some poultry I was too lazy to throw out.

   I liked eating outside of my house anyway. I shut the fridge as I remembered my phone.

   It felt like it had been days since I had checked it.

   I reached for it as I got to my bed; three new messages. One was from my mother, one was from Richard, another was from Jesse.

 Fuck. I wish Richard was fuck off and die already. Maybe not die, but get lost and never come back.

$$$

   I brushed my hair, and put on my usual bloody-plum-like lipstick. I took off my slip and put on a bra. Not wearing bras were good on some nights.

   I found a black and white pinstriped shirt, and some ripped denim that I thought looked appealing because I doubted I would be going out tonight.

   The weather was sunny without any grey and without any clouds which told me today would be a shitty day.

  

   I opened the conversation from my mother.

   "Hi Nina, hope you're doing well. We're coming to visit for Thanksgiving, don't be stupid. Love you, and dad loves you too" My mother wrote.

   Fuck.

   In the midst of an insane infatuation and longing for a boy in a band, seeing my parents was the last thing I wanted. As much as I loved them, I sometimes hated them as much as I love them. They could be judgmental assholes.

   I opened the conversation from Jesse.

  "Hey N, wanna come party this weekend???? You know you want to. It's the goodbye party for when we go on tour. Come bitch" Was what Jesse wrote. The message was old. It was Thursday.

   I was always socially awkward at parties, and I could never get too drunk like everybody else. My hangovers never lasted as long as anyone elses, but I knew it was a possibility if Zach was going.

   Thinking about him just in itself made life feel beautiful, and made me feel butterflies. Thinking of him also turned me on.

   "Sure" I wrote.

   I sat on the couch and let my hands wander over me. I was stroking all of my arms until I came to the part where it stung: my wrists.

   I lifted up my sleeve only to see raw, red, skin heeling itself. Some of the cuts were a bright purple color.

   I put my sleeve back down.

   I now had nothing to do.

   My apartment was pretty clean, the stack of dishes was small.

   I walked over to the bedroom, and layed down softly on my bed. In the cold, nothing could ever feel more comforting then soft sheets. Except having someone else there besides you.

   I put my head on the pillow. I didn't care if my purple lipstick stained the pillow case.

$$$

   I woke up a couple hours later. The light was already subsiding, and the air felt cooler.

   I reached for my phone, then stared at Zach's number. Knowing it was there felt comforting. More comfort then my mother ever could give.

   I pulled my dark hair back behind me, and layed up, staring at the ceiling. I began to think about Zach again. His dark hair, and his chubby cheeks. His toned chest, his shoulders, his arms. His face.

   I wanted him bad, but there wasn't anything I could do. It hurt.

   I felt tears beginning to form, but I told myself to stop. Crying over pain that hasn't happened yet was stupid, or at least that's what I forced myself to believe.

   "WOMEN CAN MASTURBATE TOO" I said, reading the one of the pages from a pretentious, urban fashion magazine that was tucked underneath one of the sheets.

   I read it.

   I knew I had never really felt an orgasm, nor did I ever feel true love when I had sex rarely. When me and Richard fucked, it felt like a statue was fucking me. I didn't enjoy it.

   The magazine made sex sound so glamourous and beautiful. It probably is, I just haven't experienced that kind of sex either.

   I threw the magazine down onto the floor.

   I got up and walked to the bedroom.

   The California sky had turned a much darker shade of blue, and I liked it. I love California.

   I received another text from Jesse.

   "It's tomorrow BTW" He said.

$$$

   I pulled a batch of shitty Pizza Rolls from my microwave and dropped them onto the counter.

   I ate them shamelessly, then walked back to my bedroom and took off my shirt, and my jeans.

   I crawled into my bed, and thought of Zach, and my anxiety.

   Thinking of Zach was my lullaby.

The next chapter will be longer, and will have a lot more romance.