Status: One-shot
Loving you is harder than you know.
Don't leave me, stranger
I sat at the bar, staring at his face for what seemed like the millionth time, glaring, fuming, infuriated.
“Hey, stranger.” He said. Stranger was his stupid nickname for me. The first time we met I had been irritated, and told him I didn’t talk to strangers. It had stuck with him since.
The sight of that stupid grin was sickening. I told myself I couldn’t do this again. I would NOT stoop to his level. I downed my drink and left.
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, glad that it was to cold out for me to cry. I walked as quick as I could back to my apartment, pretending not to notice the footsteps behind me. The sound was familiar yet, different. The footsteps were usually less urgent, coming down easily beside mine. But this time, they were quickly stepping off behind me, frantically trying to catch up. I couldn’t deal with him anymore. I hated him so much, more than I ever thought possible. The worst part was, I wholly in love with him.
I walked into my apartment, just about to close the door, only to find a foot blocking the way. I swore under my breath. I thought I had lost him halfway to my place, but I guess he remembered where it was. I made a mental note to start looking for another place as soon as I got rid of him.
He shoved his way through the door and stood in front of me. He stared straight into my eyes. I glared at him, and glared and glared. I lost my patience.
“Get. OUT!” I screamed. I punched his chest, and again, and again, until I fell against him sobbing. I was exhausted, furious, and somehow I was in his arms again.
“I’ll never leave you, stranger.”
“You say that every time!” I yelled. I was so done with him and his stupid games. I just wanted him to be there all the time. I wanted him to forget his stupid commitment problems and be with me. But I was so angry with him that I just wanted him to leave, never to come back.
</3
His hand was warm in mine, but that could have been an effect of the buzz I got from the extra drink I had let him buy me. The drink seemed to have let me forget what had happened the last time. I led him to my apartment, and we fell into my bed in a flurry of motions. Surprisingly, nothing happened. He struck me as the type who rushed everything, who needed to get into my pants. But no, even the first time we were together we didn’t do anything. We just talked.
“I think I’m in love with you.” He slurred. I smiled. How sweet, I thought. But I didn’t believe in love. I thought it was for juveniles who had nothing better to occupy their lives with.
“I don’t believe in love.” I told him. His smile was still there.
“Fine.” He said. “That just means you don’t believe in me.” The conversation moved on lazily, as we slowly fell asleep. I was never happier as I dozed off, surrounded by his arms.
The next morning, I woke up, a smile seemingly still on my face. I stretched and yawned and said:
“Good morning.” When I didn’t get a response I opened my eyes, and looked to the side. The bed next to me was made neatly. I cried for Andrew Collins the first time that night.
<3
That night, something unsettling woke me. I tried to shake off the weird feeling, and calm my frantically beating heart. Taking deep breaths, I looked at my alarm clock. It read 4:45. Only two more hours until I needed to get up. I sighed and tried to settle back in. Then, with a sinking feeling, I realized something. The bed next to me was neatly made. Tears gathered around the brims of my eyes, threatening to spill over. But then, I saw the small note neatly tucked under his pillow.
Stranger-
I had to leave early for work. Go back to sleep, I'll be there when you wake up. I love you always.
-Andrew
So I did go back to sleep. I slept better than I had in a while. And, as he promised, Andrew was there when I woke up. Ever since then, I had never woken up without him.
“Hey, stranger.” He said. Stranger was his stupid nickname for me. The first time we met I had been irritated, and told him I didn’t talk to strangers. It had stuck with him since.
The sight of that stupid grin was sickening. I told myself I couldn’t do this again. I would NOT stoop to his level. I downed my drink and left.
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, glad that it was to cold out for me to cry. I walked as quick as I could back to my apartment, pretending not to notice the footsteps behind me. The sound was familiar yet, different. The footsteps were usually less urgent, coming down easily beside mine. But this time, they were quickly stepping off behind me, frantically trying to catch up. I couldn’t deal with him anymore. I hated him so much, more than I ever thought possible. The worst part was, I wholly in love with him.
I walked into my apartment, just about to close the door, only to find a foot blocking the way. I swore under my breath. I thought I had lost him halfway to my place, but I guess he remembered where it was. I made a mental note to start looking for another place as soon as I got rid of him.
He shoved his way through the door and stood in front of me. He stared straight into my eyes. I glared at him, and glared and glared. I lost my patience.
“Get. OUT!” I screamed. I punched his chest, and again, and again, until I fell against him sobbing. I was exhausted, furious, and somehow I was in his arms again.
“I’ll never leave you, stranger.”
“You say that every time!” I yelled. I was so done with him and his stupid games. I just wanted him to be there all the time. I wanted him to forget his stupid commitment problems and be with me. But I was so angry with him that I just wanted him to leave, never to come back.
</3
His hand was warm in mine, but that could have been an effect of the buzz I got from the extra drink I had let him buy me. The drink seemed to have let me forget what had happened the last time. I led him to my apartment, and we fell into my bed in a flurry of motions. Surprisingly, nothing happened. He struck me as the type who rushed everything, who needed to get into my pants. But no, even the first time we were together we didn’t do anything. We just talked.
“I think I’m in love with you.” He slurred. I smiled. How sweet, I thought. But I didn’t believe in love. I thought it was for juveniles who had nothing better to occupy their lives with.
“I don’t believe in love.” I told him. His smile was still there.
“Fine.” He said. “That just means you don’t believe in me.” The conversation moved on lazily, as we slowly fell asleep. I was never happier as I dozed off, surrounded by his arms.
The next morning, I woke up, a smile seemingly still on my face. I stretched and yawned and said:
“Good morning.” When I didn’t get a response I opened my eyes, and looked to the side. The bed next to me was made neatly. I cried for Andrew Collins the first time that night.
<3
That night, something unsettling woke me. I tried to shake off the weird feeling, and calm my frantically beating heart. Taking deep breaths, I looked at my alarm clock. It read 4:45. Only two more hours until I needed to get up. I sighed and tried to settle back in. Then, with a sinking feeling, I realized something. The bed next to me was neatly made. Tears gathered around the brims of my eyes, threatening to spill over. But then, I saw the small note neatly tucked under his pillow.
Stranger-
I had to leave early for work. Go back to sleep, I'll be there when you wake up. I love you always.
-Andrew
So I did go back to sleep. I slept better than I had in a while. And, as he promised, Andrew was there when I woke up. Ever since then, I had never woken up without him.