Meant to Be
Markus
The apartment felt weird without Destiny in it. Laying in bed at four AM staring at the ceiling, it was finally hitting Markus what Destiny’s leaving really meant. No more feeling her soft, warm body against his when he went to sleep, no more waking up to find her curled against his side, trying to steal his body heat because she’d kicked the blankets off in her sleep. He hated to admit that he was going to miss that, that he was going to miss her. After the way she’d just up and ended things, he didn’t want to miss her at all. More than anything he wanted to hate her for leaving him, to write her off as one more bitch in his life who’d rejected him and move on without her. Problem was, he couldn’t stop thinking about how incredibly not bitchy she was. How sweet and caring she’d been, how loved she’d made him feel. Even more than he wanted to hate her he wanted to have her back, to take her in his arms and kiss away the tears he’d seen forming in her eyes when she’d walked out on him. He wanted to beg her to forgive him for whatever he’d done that had finally driven her away, and as much as he loved her, he wanted to make her hurt as bad as he was hurting because a small, angry part of him hated her for putting him through this.
“Fuck it.”
Throwing back the covers, Markus rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards until he found the leftover liquor from a party he and Destiny had thrown a few months before. There was a just under half empty fifth of Jack Daniels among the various glass bottles that had his name on it. It was a Saturday night, so why not self medicate a little? He might be hung over in the morning, but at least he’d get some sleep instead of laying awake trying to convince himself that he didn’t miss the woman he loved more than anything in the world, that he could get used to going to sleep without the feeling of her soft, delicate hands on his skin. Anger and sadness swirling through him, Markus lifted the open bottle to his lips and swallowed what he guessed to be just slightly more than a shot, trying not to let the taste of the whiskey remind him of the night of the party. They’d been having a good time, laughing together, dancing and generally having fun with their friends, and more importantly, each other. They’d drunk and talked and made love like everything was as great as it’d been when they’d first gotten together.
Why the hell did she have to leave me?
As much as the angry, hateful part of him insisted that it was because she was a coldhearted bitch who’d torn his heart out on a whim just to hurt him, the wounded, self-hating part knew it was his own damn fault he’d lost the best thing that’d ever happened to him. The problem was he’d spent too much time treating her like she was a cold hearted bitch, exploding at her over stupid things and spewing venomous words he knew would hurt instead of telling her how much he loved her, how lucky he was to have her. Now it was too late. Instead of spending the night with the single most important person in his life he was spending it alone with a bottle of alcohol.
Cheers baby.
With that bleak thought to occupy his mind, Markus raised the bottle to his lips and took another swig.
“Fuck it.”
Throwing back the covers, Markus rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards until he found the leftover liquor from a party he and Destiny had thrown a few months before. There was a just under half empty fifth of Jack Daniels among the various glass bottles that had his name on it. It was a Saturday night, so why not self medicate a little? He might be hung over in the morning, but at least he’d get some sleep instead of laying awake trying to convince himself that he didn’t miss the woman he loved more than anything in the world, that he could get used to going to sleep without the feeling of her soft, delicate hands on his skin. Anger and sadness swirling through him, Markus lifted the open bottle to his lips and swallowed what he guessed to be just slightly more than a shot, trying not to let the taste of the whiskey remind him of the night of the party. They’d been having a good time, laughing together, dancing and generally having fun with their friends, and more importantly, each other. They’d drunk and talked and made love like everything was as great as it’d been when they’d first gotten together.
Why the hell did she have to leave me?
As much as the angry, hateful part of him insisted that it was because she was a coldhearted bitch who’d torn his heart out on a whim just to hurt him, the wounded, self-hating part knew it was his own damn fault he’d lost the best thing that’d ever happened to him. The problem was he’d spent too much time treating her like she was a cold hearted bitch, exploding at her over stupid things and spewing venomous words he knew would hurt instead of telling her how much he loved her, how lucky he was to have her. Now it was too late. Instead of spending the night with the single most important person in his life he was spending it alone with a bottle of alcohol.
Cheers baby.
With that bleak thought to occupy his mind, Markus raised the bottle to his lips and took another swig.