Closer
I sit cross-legged on the cold, concrete steps outside of her dorm,
waiting patiently. Closing my eyes, I lean up against her door and
sigh. Why do I do this?
Once upon a time, I used to be wild animal: an uninhibited,
free-spirit who had strings of boyfriends and scores of
one-night-stands. Now, I'm sitting here like a puppy, waiting for it's
beloved master to come home and adorn it with affection.
Affection...Is that what it is?
How did I get here? How did it end up this way; me, as some kind of
paper doll, to be used and discarded at whim, her, ripping me apart so
willingly, and with such blatant apathy? But, most importantly, when
did I start caring?
Maybe we're just a couple of dying people. Her, for those memories she
clutches to so preciously inside that locket, that small, frail girl
with the merlot eyes. Some unremarkable girl with a name I can't
remember. And me...I die for her. Juri.
I guess I deserve this.
All the shit I've done, the people I've used and the webs I've spun,
maybe it's all finally come back around. I wonder, almost amusingly,
if this is hell. Some poetic and divine punishment on another dirty
and unwanted soul. But if it is, why does it feel so good to hurt? I
never thought I'd feel this way about anything. Not ever again. Not
love, or hope. Or even this suffocating despair. The feeling of
having my emotions trampled on like some fucking trash on the street.
My heart skips a beat as I hear the steady clicking of her shoes on
the pavement. My eyes swing over excitedly to catch a glimpse of her
arrival, that venomous heart of mine pounding loudly in my chest.
Juri...She's always beautiful.
Such incredible self-possession, no wonder we all gladly follow behind
her. Her eyes catch me in their cold, emerald gaze. I stand up.
She's walking over to me, and I want to say something. Anything. Try
to find a way to make this more than what I know it always be. I want
to so badly.
But I don't.
Although sometimes I sit and try to imagine. What it would be like,
if for once, someone could look at me different. If she could look at
me different, with anything in her eyes but that shitty apathy that,
once upon a time, reflected my own. Back when I was the predator and
not the prey. She stands in front of me, so tall and proud, so close,
and all I can do is stand and wait.
'Go ahead', I tell her silently. Hit me baby one more time?
Her hand reaches up slowly to touch my face, and as Juri's warm palm
caresses my cheek, I don't even flinch. Her lips meet mine, and her
kiss, the first kiss, is always so gentle. And, as always, my idiotic
heart is filled with some kind of crazy hope. Hope that maybe this
time it could be different. Something that trash like me shouldn't
wish for.
Then, like all the nights before it, that hope is killed so brutally
away. I'm getting pushed into the door, her hand working up my leg, my
hands running wildly through her golden curls, and the kiss turns into
a fight for dominance.
With her body pressing so close against mine, she grazes her teeth
slowly down my neck, and a groan, so feral it almost scares me,
escapes my lips. Her touch, so brutal and unforgiving, elicits an
incredible response from me each and every time.
She's pushing me into her dorm now, into the cold darkness of her
room. I'm pushed down on the bed, and I drag her down with me.
I can't see anything anymore, this place is too dark; there's only the
ragged gasps for breath and the acrid smell of sweat. She grasps onto
my small, ragged shirt with both hands and peels it off violently, and
I can only oblige, ripping Juri's own uniform open with an angry
grunt, exposing her naked, athletic chest. She whips the unwanted
article of clothing across the room and pins me against the bed,
entangling my wrists in her firm , unwavering grip. She kisses me
again; that is, if you want to call what we do kissing. It's more like
a violent, brutal exposure of mouths, some carnal prelude to yet
another brutal entanglement.
I can feel her tongue flicker across my collar bone, and I gasp, which
only makes her grip tighten. She likes to be in control, and I like to
let her. Her strong hands release me, however, as her mouth works it's
way down my body. I grip onto her back so tight, my fingernails
indenting into her otherwise smooth skin, as she sucks on my breasts.
She bites onto my erect nipple, making me cry out. She grunts almost
inaudibly as my nails perforate her skin, drawing small amounts of
blood.
Juri's hands reach my thighs, working there way up my skirt and to the
place where she knows I want her. Her fingers rip into me violently,
thrusting deep and making me scream out her name. She licks my
stomach, kisses the pale skin, but never stops her violent descent
into the deepest part of me.I thrash and shake, feeling that
incredible rush assaulting all of my senses. And for a while,
everything is a beautifully nirvanic hell. I loose myself to the fire,
as it consumes every part of my being, engulfing me entirely. My soul
burns for her; sounds pretty stupid, but it's true.
It's always like this. We do this to each other so willingly, only
allowing ourselves to sink deeper into our own personal traps. It
seems like we'll always be broken, bleeding, and left only to die.
Helpless children hiding in our own safe and familiar coffins of
despair and self-inflicted hate. We could help each other, I think.
Help each other to heal, grow, or...Something.
Or maybe not; hell, maybe we're just too used to feeding off the pain.
Too used to the bleeding and the numbness.
All I know for certain is that I love her...
And it's killing me.
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