People define pain in different ways. l get it now. One defines pain according to the experiences one goes through. l feel like I'm suffocating,like I'm locked up in a small tiny room, no window, no light, its just me and my pain. It feels like I'm quickly running out of oxygen and my heart. Oh my heart, how can l feel so much pain and still be alive? is it even possible?...She thought to herself.
Sitting on the on the toilet floor was Amanda, tears streaming down her pretty little face, her back was resting against the walls. She just couldn't stop crying, at least she managed to lock the doors before any of her workers walked in and see how messed up she was.
Her right hand was on her chest close to her heart, she slowly patted her chest, tears streaming down trying to soothe the pain. It was all too much, the pain, the hurt, it was slowly killing her. She raised her left hand looking at the message again, more tears rolled down her cheeks landing on her phone's screen. Jason's message was still there, not even a word changes as she read the message over and over again.
"you aren't what l want anymore...I'm sorry"
Eight words was all it took, dumped through a text and she was crushed beyond repair.
She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly.
Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that.
"I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare.
A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.