Post by DarkPhoenix on Nov 18, 2008 7:20:12 GMT -6
As I walked up to the front door, I saw her peering through the blinds at me, her eyes wide and unblinking, examining the outside world with a mix of fear, contempt, and fascination. I unlocked the door and let myself in, and she rose from her seat and embraced me tightly.
“So, how was it today?” she asked. “Did everything go well?”
Our usual daily routine. Her arms were locked around my waist tightly, in an almost vise-like grip, as she looked up at me, almost fearful, as though expecting me to bolt or speak harshly to her. And, in a way, I wanted to, the way she clung to me and made me feel guilty for thinking unkindly about it by staring at me with those wide green eyes, eyes typically only seen on anime characters and puppies.
“Good,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Shame you couldn’t be there.”
“Yeah, well, you know I couldn’t have gone if I wanted. Your friends and all, you know. Besides, you know I’m bad with groups of people.”
Her eyes lowered, but they focused on some invisible point, as though reading an invisible book. Then, briefly, her eyes flickered upward, quickly taking in my face, as though to gauge my response. Hoping, perhaps, that I would say that she was welcome to join me next time? Women, who knows what they think, right?
“Yeah, I know.” Good. Casual. Light peck on the forehead, trying to seem affectionate, as though I still cared about her, even though I stopped being enamored with her about a week ago, after I realized just how clingy she was. The “just to say hi and apologize if I bothered you” text messages, the awkward smiles when we ran into each other out in public. It was almost enough to drive a guy mad. Almost.
“I missed you,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. Sore throat? Emotion? Hard to tell with her. “I almost didn’t think you’d come. I know you’ve been busy and all.”
“Well, I can’t afford to fail those classes. Plus, you know, I have practice and all… I’ll be kicked off if I miss too many.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, smiling a little sadly. She toyed with her wristbands, readjusting them, and that’s when I noticed the ugly red marks.
“What happened?” I asked, lightly touching her wrist.
“Got bored and didn’t think you’d come.”
“So you took the nail file to yourself again?”
“Better that than a kitchen knife,” she replied wryly. “Besides, I cut across, not up.”
“Still a bad idea.”
She shrugged in response, then wrapped her arms even more tightly around me. Automatically, I stroked her hair and felt her relax against me as she buried her face in my neck. I swear, it sometimes seemed as though she would feel that she was suitably close to me only once she’d burrowed under my skin and sucked me dry like some parasite. Grudgingly, I had to admit that she smelled good, like mint and oranges. One of the few things about her that didn’t irritate me yet. She clutched at me, as though she knew that I wanted to turn and leave for good.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come back,” she whispered, her hands gripping the back of my shirt tightly.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, trying to sound casual, as though she hadn’t known my intentions.
She lifted her head from its position against my neck and looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “Just… something I’m afraid of,” she replied. “You know, you don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to. You don’t have any obligation to me.”
But I knew I did, and that if I did turn tail and run away, she would make me feel eternally guilty. And so, that’s why I let her lead me to the bedroom, knowing that when I did have to leave, she would watch me with those big, teary eyes, those eyes that pierced into my soul and made me feel guilty for what I thought of her. It would be clear, as it always was, that she didn’t want me to leave, and that it was agony for her to be torn from me. After all, she loved me, or at least, that what she said all those nights. Perhaps one day, I would finally detach myself from her for good, to no longer be that “other man” in her life and be satisfied in my loneliness again, but until that time, I would have to suffer in silence with this daily routine.
“So, how was it today?” she asked. “Did everything go well?”
Our usual daily routine. Her arms were locked around my waist tightly, in an almost vise-like grip, as she looked up at me, almost fearful, as though expecting me to bolt or speak harshly to her. And, in a way, I wanted to, the way she clung to me and made me feel guilty for thinking unkindly about it by staring at me with those wide green eyes, eyes typically only seen on anime characters and puppies.
“Good,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Shame you couldn’t be there.”
“Yeah, well, you know I couldn’t have gone if I wanted. Your friends and all, you know. Besides, you know I’m bad with groups of people.”
Her eyes lowered, but they focused on some invisible point, as though reading an invisible book. Then, briefly, her eyes flickered upward, quickly taking in my face, as though to gauge my response. Hoping, perhaps, that I would say that she was welcome to join me next time? Women, who knows what they think, right?
“Yeah, I know.” Good. Casual. Light peck on the forehead, trying to seem affectionate, as though I still cared about her, even though I stopped being enamored with her about a week ago, after I realized just how clingy she was. The “just to say hi and apologize if I bothered you” text messages, the awkward smiles when we ran into each other out in public. It was almost enough to drive a guy mad. Almost.
“I missed you,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. Sore throat? Emotion? Hard to tell with her. “I almost didn’t think you’d come. I know you’ve been busy and all.”
“Well, I can’t afford to fail those classes. Plus, you know, I have practice and all… I’ll be kicked off if I miss too many.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, smiling a little sadly. She toyed with her wristbands, readjusting them, and that’s when I noticed the ugly red marks.
“What happened?” I asked, lightly touching her wrist.
“Got bored and didn’t think you’d come.”
“So you took the nail file to yourself again?”
“Better that than a kitchen knife,” she replied wryly. “Besides, I cut across, not up.”
“Still a bad idea.”
She shrugged in response, then wrapped her arms even more tightly around me. Automatically, I stroked her hair and felt her relax against me as she buried her face in my neck. I swear, it sometimes seemed as though she would feel that she was suitably close to me only once she’d burrowed under my skin and sucked me dry like some parasite. Grudgingly, I had to admit that she smelled good, like mint and oranges. One of the few things about her that didn’t irritate me yet. She clutched at me, as though she knew that I wanted to turn and leave for good.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come back,” she whispered, her hands gripping the back of my shirt tightly.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, trying to sound casual, as though she hadn’t known my intentions.
She lifted her head from its position against my neck and looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “Just… something I’m afraid of,” she replied. “You know, you don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to. You don’t have any obligation to me.”
But I knew I did, and that if I did turn tail and run away, she would make me feel eternally guilty. And so, that’s why I let her lead me to the bedroom, knowing that when I did have to leave, she would watch me with those big, teary eyes, those eyes that pierced into my soul and made me feel guilty for what I thought of her. It would be clear, as it always was, that she didn’t want me to leave, and that it was agony for her to be torn from me. After all, she loved me, or at least, that what she said all those nights. Perhaps one day, I would finally detach myself from her for good, to no longer be that “other man” in her life and be satisfied in my loneliness again, but until that time, I would have to suffer in silence with this daily routine.