You're Flying

It’s been a month, a freaking month, of non stop fighting with Angel. I don’t want to have to be in a relationship like this. The only thing good about the relationship is the make-up sex. God, the hot, sweat, lustful make-up sex is fucking amazing.

I groaned as I slammed my head down on the bar. I don’t want it to be like that. The first time I had sex with Angel was when we were both drunk. Then, when I finally get him to be all mine, we have angry sex because we’re mad at each other. We’ve yet to have sex because we want to show each other how we feel, pleasure our partner, show each other how much we love each other.I want to make love to him.

I told him I’d try to get better for him and I am, but it never seems to be enough. I’m only getting drunk once a week now, instead of almost every night. I only drink once every fucking week, nowhere near as much as I normally would either, and it’s not good enough for him. I know he wants me to stop, but I can’t quit cold turkey. It’s next to impossible. I feel like no matter what I do I’m never good enough for him, because I always find a way to fuck up my progress.

I slammed my hand down on the bar, catching the bartenders attention, signaling for another drink. She came over with a new one and I thanked her with my eyes before throwing back my head and chugging it, slamming the glass down, my way of asking for more. She gave me more and more as I continued slamming them back, one after the other. I lost track of how many drinks I had at my third one.

After I finished getting my fix of alcohol I reached blindly for my wallet, knowing that I had to pay the nice bartender for the insane amount of alcohol that I had just consumed. When I finally found it I opened it up and pulled it close to my eyes, not being able to clearly read the numbers on the bills. “How much was all that?” I slurred out around a hiccup, still trying to distinguish how much each paper bill was worth.

“Oh,” the bartender leaned towards me, closing my wallet and tucking it into the front pocket of my jeans, dangerously close to my private area. “It’s on the house, sugar,” she said seductively.

I looked her up and down in my blind state. If I was straight, and desperate, I may have fucked her. She was tall, thin, had really nice black hair and gorgeous green eyes. The problem was that she carries herself as a whore and it was obvious that she had enhancements done to her breasts. They were way to round and big to be natural. The way she was showing them off led me to believe that my thoughts were right.

I looked back up to her face. She had a pretty face, no obvious enhancements done to it. “Thanks,” I slurred as I stumbled to get off the stool.

She reached out and grabbed my bicep, squeezing the muscle appreciatively. “Why don’t you wait around?” Her obnoxious voice floated to my ears. “I get off in twenty minutes.”

I looked at her stone-faced for a few seconds before I burst out laughing. “I’m gay!” I got out between laughs, running out of the bar as quickly as I could before she decided to make me pay for my drinks when she realized she wouldn’t be able to score with me tonight.

I got onto the first bus that stopped at the bus stop, knowing that it would eventually make it to my home. I rolled my eyes when I noticed mothers pull their kids closer to their bodies when I stumbled onto the bus, trying to be responsible. If you were so fucking responsible you shouldn’t be out with your kids at this fucking hour. This is the hour when alcoholics and rapists come out to play, dumb bitches. People who think they’re better than me infuriate me. When I’m not drunk, I really am a nice person.

I sat in my seat, pressing the side of my face against the cold bus window until we reached my destination, the bus stop that was closest to my apartment building. I rolled my eyes at the stupidity of the ‘protective’ mothersthat are probably hookers and/or prostitutes as I got off the bus. People’s stupidity levels never cease to amaze me.

I stumbled my way to my apartment, taking out my key and trying to get it into the lock. I stood there, stumbling around for five minutes, not being able to get the key into the little hole for the life of me. Why the hell do they make key holes so tiny anyway? What’s the fucking deal? I growled as I missed it again, slamming my hand against the door in frustration.

Out of nowhere the door swung open, making me lose my balance since I was bracing myself against it. I fell into the apartment, landing on the cold tile floor. I looked up to see Angel staring down at me, a disapproving look set onto his gorgeous features. See! I can never do anything fucking right for him.

I grumbled incoherencies as I sat up, pulling my long legs out of the hallway so Angel could close the door. When he did, he slammed it shut angrily before stomping into the living room. I rolled my eyes as I braced my hands against the wall, using it as support so I can stand up on my wobbly legs.

I started moving towards the living room, not being able to walk in a straight line. Once inside I was Angel sitting on the couch stiffly, as if there was a stick shoved up his ass. “What’s wrong, honey?” I slurred as I sat down beside him, trying to throw my arm around his shoulder, but he flinched away from me, a disgusted look replacing his disapproving one.

“It’s fucking three in the morning, Dom.” He growled, getting straight to the point.

I brought my watch up to my face, squinting at it, trying to tell the time. The big hand is there… and the little hand is there… Oh, it really is three in the morning. “I’m sorry, honey. I was busy.” I said, hoping he would let everything go. Of course I had no luck.

“Busy drinking.” He said flatly. He crossed his arms staring at me angrily.

“I haven’t had a drink for six days!” I yelled exasperatedly.

“You don’t have to yell,” he grounded out through clench teeth.

I stood up and flung my arms around crazily. “Yes, I do have to yell because you’re not trying to fucking understand me! I’m barely drinking these days! Only once a week, but it’s still not good enough for you! I can’t just quit out of nowhere!”

I’m surprised he could understand me at all; I was slurring my words so bad. “Okay, so you’re not drinking as often, but you’re drinking more than you would ever knock back to begin with! You’re not trying at all. Do you know how it fucking feels to date an alcoholic that you can barely trust?! No! You don’t! And it fucking sucks!” He screamed at me, getting in my face as his face turned a shade of deep red.

“You’re a fucking idiot for not trusting me! I’m doing all this shit for you and you don’t even thank me!” I bellowed, pushing him away from me.

He stumbled into the corner, looking up at me with a shocked expression as I advanced on him. He curled in on himself, cowering in the corner as tears started to spill down his cheeks. “You think I don’t care about you when I’m trying to get better for you! You don’t do anything about it! All you do is start fights and I’m sick of it! I don’t even know if you’re worth it anymore!” I bellowed as I pulled my arm back, making a fist.

“What’s happening to you?” I heard him whisper softly, around sobs. My fist froze midair. What is happening to me? Why am I trying to hurt my Angel?

I looked down at the boy in front of me, cowering in the corner. I did that to him. I pulled my hand down, tracing my hands over my body desperately, fear quickly overtaking me. How did I turn into this?!

I stumbled to my room, slamming my body against the walls in the hallway, trying to get my balance back. Once inside my room I slammed the door shut as tears started sliding down my face. I ran over to my mirror, looking at myself as I desperately pulled my clothes off my body. I was sickly thin and pale. Angel isn’t trying to hurt me, he’s trying to save mebefore it’s too late.

I continued staring at myself in the mirror as I stripped, not being able to recognize myself anymore. I tugged at my clothes desperately as sobs started to rack my frame.

I threw myself into my bed, sleep quickly overtaking me in my horrid state. Tears were spilling down my cheeks. I can’t believe I almost hurt Angel, the most important person in the world to me. The mere thought made desperate sobs rock my frame even harder than they were before. My breaths were becoming shortened as I fell to sleep, not wanting to ever wake up. I’d never be able to forgive myself for what I almost did to him.

I’m a fucking monster.