S T A L K E R

1. New Beginnings

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The word love doesn't exactly describe what I'm feeling for him not at the moment and hopefully not this lifetime. He looks at me with expecting eyes, hands clumped together in anticipation. It's comical really, all we have been doing is fucking, not making love, just bumping uglies on the off day that I feel the least bit interested in relieving stress without going to the gym. I can't tell him what he desires to be reciprocated if it was never there in the first place. My eyes connect with the waitress at the opposite end of the room, a swift come hither movement makes her all but run to our table with the bill in her hand. We were the last set of people - my guess- his attempt at a romantic gesture.

"The bill please, thank you" My voice is an awkward squeak, I feel his penetrating gaze but I refuse to acknowledge it. I did not expect a proclamation of love, just food; that's it. This is your run of the mill fling, no strings or hang up feelings just plain old sex.

Plain is a damn good word for it.

The chuckle escapes me, Oh God I hope that doesn't anger him so he won't pay the check. I just brought my stomach and appetite. My lips draw between my teeth as I nervously run my teeth over it until I can taste the metallic sting.

"You're not going to say anything back?" His anger is plain as day. Maybe ignoring him was a bad idea but what else was I supposed to do, it was completely unnecessary and weird how he just told me he loved me, I damn near choked on my desert.

"I-I don't want a relationship Damion, all we do is fuck, you don't even know where my house is- let alone my likes and dislikes" My own doing mostly, but thats the truth, Our connection is just physical and before he decided to spew nonsense out his mouth it was perfectly agreeable.

"Azalea this has been going on for a year!" he angrily whispers seeing as the waitress is still in earshot then barely stands just so he can lean over the table and press his balled up fists beside my tapping fingers. "You mean to tell me that you feel nothing for me at all?" He asks, shocked.

Yup, I mean of course I don't feel anything for you. Lust maybe, though that's hardly the case since I only see him once a week along with the others I keep on a routine schedule. I'm young and free, I can do whatever the fuck I want.

"Lust, maybe? I don't know Damion, what do you want me to say? I don't love you and I made it perfectly clear that all I wanted was sex." The gall of the man to be angry with me over a fling. If the roles were reversed I would have been expected to just leave him alone and find someone else. What's the big deal with wanting no strings attached?

"Lust? Are you serious! Lust? I pay your rent, gas and I always cover the tab for our dinners" Absolutely no one asked him to do any of that. I don't owe him anything. If he really wants to put prices on this he should be ticking off every fuck I gave him. Had time travel been invented I would have wound it back to the day I met him in the bar on Franklin's Ave. I give him a blank stare and debate if I should reach over the table and finish off his untouched tiramisu. Tomorrow's a big day and I really need to head home and get a good night's sleep.

"And? You pay for everything, does that mean I owe you something? You don't love me, you think I'm just some slut don't you! Am I a prostitute to you, Damian. Is that all it is?" Wide eyes meet mine as he falls for some minor gaslighting, he quickly grips my hands in his and shakes his head. The minute I get in his car I'm blocking him.

"No, I just thought you would have at least had some feelings for me." He admits. I bow my head and cover my eyes in a means for him to hurry up and forget our prior exchange. He does. The sound of a pen scribbling onto the paper reaches my ears as well as money hitting the table.