When I Said "We", You Know I Meant "Me"

The night was still with the sound of chirping crickets creating a soft buzz in the atmosphere. Kat lay motionless in her bed, feeling the warm sticky air produce a thin layer of perspiration on her bare skin. She normally would have felt uncomfortable in the oppressive heat, however, at the moment, she felt good. With the humidity, she also felt the warmth radiating from Reagan’s body next to her. His head was nestled beside her chest on the pillow, but his arms were around her waist. Kat’s own arm was around Reagan’s bare shoulders, her hand fiddling with the hair on the back of his head. She was only half-awake, but thoughts were running clearly through her head. Since they had met a month ago, she had gotten him hooked on her. Nearly every day, he wanted to spend time with her. He would show up at her work and flirt with her from the other side of the counter. He was almost at the point of being possessive, if it weren’t for his submissive nature. If Kat ever said, “stop” he would stop in an instant, and revert back to his awkward, over-apologetic self she had witnessed when she first met him. Reagan seemed to be comfortable with being nothing but obedient to her and it was exactly what Kat had wanted.

While she was certain he was completely smitten by her, Kat didn’t share the exact same feelings. There was something that she loved, but it wasn’t him. As cute as he was being a submissive little bitch, she only felt true love in her domination. So easily could she control him; it seemed after only a month, he would die for her, and she could only anticipate how much more he would do. Kat smiled to herself, feeling herself nearly shake with cruel joy. Reagan’s arms were wrapped loosely around her waist, as if he was clinging to her. He would never want to let go. He would never want her to leave him.

“Kat?” His voice came quietly, the break in silence almost startling Kat. She made a mumbling noise in response, her hand moving down the back of his neck.

He hadn’t been asleep, only pretending. Kat could see the moonlight reflecting off of his eyes as he stared at her pleadingly. He said, “I gotta tell you something…”

She already knew. Kat leaned in and kissed Reagan lightly on his lips.

“I know it hasn’t been long, but…”

She silenced him again, placing her other hand on the side of his face and kissing him deeper. He still backed away – the first time he had ever resisted.

“I think I love you,” he mumbled.

Once again, Kat said nothing and kissed him. She shifted to become eye level with him and they kissed softly underneath the sheets. Kat later said she loved him, without meaning a word of it.

I think I love you. He had been lying. He knew he loved her. Reagan woke up in a jumble of sheets, feeling a dull pain in his head. He made a slight moaning sound as he lifted his head from Kat’s pillow, finding himself alone in her bed. The door of her bedroom was open, and as his eyes focused, he saw her head pop in the door.

“You didn’t bring any clothes with you, did you?” she asked him.

“What?” he asked, feeling his insides ache. His chest was cramped, his stomach feeling as if it was in knots. His eyes stung and he felt them watering.

“You can wear something of mine if you can find anything. If you want.”

Reagan nodded, looking up to see Kat walk away into her bathroom and shutting the door. His hand met his right temple as he closed his eyes, trying to breathe clearly. He felt awful, and he knew what he needed. Forcing himself to get up off the bed, he stumbled around Kat’s room until he found his jeans from the night before. He dug into the pockets, feeling a small plastic sandwich bag, and pulled it out. As soon as he saw the white powder, small pills and the razor blade, he immediately felt better. He sat back down Kat’s bed in nothing but his underwear form the previous day. He opened the bag and poured out some of the powder onto Kat’s bedside table.

“What are you doing?”

Reagan looked up, startled, only able to stare at Kat. She was giving him a disproving look, but her expression turned to curiosity after a few seconds.

“There something you’re not telling me?”

“It’s nothing,” Reagan mumbled, but he didn’t move.

Kat cocked an eyebrow and walked into her room, sitting down next to Reagan. She was already showered and dressed for work, her hair curled and tied up. Her face was void of makeup, spots of freckles visible across the bridge of her nose. She looked over at the drugs in his hand, raising an eyebrow. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

Reagan was silent.

“Why can’t you tell me? I thought you could tell me anything.”

His ears prickled. He just wanted Kat to leave him alone for a minute. “This is different.”

“I thought you said you loved me.”

His heart dropped into his stomach. Reagan looked up into Kat’s dark brown eyes; they looked painfully disappointed, yet pleading. “I did say that,” he mumbled and looked away.

“If you love me, you’ll tell me,” Kat whispered. “You know you can trust me.”

A chill went down Reagan’s spine and gritted his teeth together. “About three years ago, when I was seventeen, I got in a car accident. We were driving at night, and we were hit head-on. I was the only one who lived.” He paused, feeling his skin begin to tingle and itch. “When I was recovering, they pumped me full of morphine.”

Kat nodded. “You’re still doing it, then?”

“I’ve tried to get off it. But it just fucking hurts all the time.” Reagan’s index finger tapped on the bag in a fidgeting manner.

Kat put her hand on Reagan’s bare thigh and kissed him on the cheek. “Just do what you gotta do.” She got up and walked out of the room, towards the bathroom. Before she left, she looked back at Reagan with a smile on her face. “I have this black pleated mini. You’d look fucking hot in it.”

So he was an addict. Kat couldn’t help but feel slightly smug about the entire situation. If he were like any junkie, he would be completely dependent on his drugs. A weakness, perhaps? Something that could be used to her advantage? It was a devious idea, but manipulation was something Kat knew too much about. Previous boyfriends had left her for it, often telling her she was bossy, or too disagreeable, but now she had the perfect reason to make him stay with her. She would likely not need to, but she liked him a lot. She didn’t love him like he had told her the night before. Maybe she would love him, but at that point, it seemed as if he was wrapped around her finger.