perfect to me

01 | call out my name

A tired sigh escapes the male's lips as he rolls onto his side, positioning himself in the middle of the bed he shares with his girlfriend. She's in the bathroom, getting ready to sleep. The sound of the shower running echoes throughout the flat, causing the man to be unable to slumber.

His apartment is small but modest. The bedroom has a large, queen-sized bed with sheets that varied every two weeks. The end tables on either side of the bed were decorated with various photos and a lamp. There's a TV on the wall opposite to the bed, large, shiny, and brand new. The screen is lit, the end scenes of a Marvel movie playing. The bedroom he's in is silent except for the sound of the shower, and the TV casts various multi-colored lights around the room. He lets out another sigh as he sits up, abandoning the attempt to sleep before his girlfriend finishes her shower.

A sudden, loud ding reverberates through the room and the man turns his head towards the sound, noticing that it's from his girlfriend's phone. The screen lights up with another ding, and he sees the green icon of the Messages app from where he's sitting. He furrows his brows, running a hand through his ginger locks. The phone is silent for a brief moment before it dings one, two, three, four more times in a row. He frowns.

He glances at the clock on his bedside table. The small, red numbers cast a faint reddish glow on the dark wood of the table. 11:17 P.M. Who's texting her at this hour?

If her phone had been bombarded with messages two weeks ago, he wouldn't've given it a second thought. He had completely trusted his girlfriend two weeks ago, and then he caught her at the club. He still trusts her, but not as much.

Before he can stop himself, he finds the phone in his hands, sliding across the screen and tapping the six digits that make up her password. The little green app has a red circle on the top right corner, the number inside that circle rising as more notifications appear at the top of the screen. He takes a deep breath before tapping on one of the white banners that appear, the messaging app opening on the phone.

Perhaps a small part of him knew exactly what he was going to see, and maybe that's why the news doesn't have as much of a blow as it should've. He reads the new texts slowly, his eyes poring over each word in their blue bubbles, the frown on his features slowly deepening.

Hey baby

I miss you

When r you coming back over??

I can show you the best time if you come over soon

Every1 knows gingers have small dicks

Just ditch him and come to me already

He drags his thumb up, seeing previous messages he hadn't even known about. The gray texts, the responses from his girlfriend, promise that she's going to leave him, come to the other guy, and be his. Slowly, as he continues to scroll, the pain of her cheating on him sinks in. It feels like his heart is constricting in his chest, like these texts have hands and they're squeezing his heart to death. One thought stands out amongst his many jumbled ones, one thought that makes his pain much worse.

What did I do to deserve this?

His eyes fill with tears that soon begin rolling down his cheeks as thoughts of him not being good enough fill his mind. He had loved his girlfriend, he had tried his best to treat her like a queen, and they've been together since his first year of college. He had helped her cope with so many losses, had helped her succeed in her classes. After all that time together, after moving in together, he finally found out her secret. She's cheating on him. And if the texts indicate anything, it's been happening for over a year.