Konstantine
they'll never hurt you like i do
It started with a few beers and a bonfire on the beach.
The flames flickered between them, throwing shards of light from the green Heineken bottle the girl gripped in her hand, casting a sick glow against her fair, freckled skin.
Jade eyes gazed at him from across the fire, and James refused to break eye contact, even though he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. Things never went anywhere with her. He’d just end up cramped on her couch again, the stream of traffic on the freeway lulling him to sleep.
But even though a part of him knew he wouldn’t win that night, he just couldn’t tear his hazel eyes away. And though he was surrounded by friends and strangers, none of them seemed to mean anything to him except her.
There was just something in everything that she was, some beauty in her mystique and her mannerisms that James couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was the way that she always wore her dirty blonde locks in a lazy side braid that hung just over shoulder, or maybe it was the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed, or the way she just seemed to throw her clothes on her thin frame and walk out the door, with no set image in mind and no portrait she was trying to portray to the world. She was just a girl: no labels, only flesh and bone.
James was intrigued by the fact that he couldn’t define her. She was everything and nothing at the same time.
After the group had dispersed, young bodies climbing into an array of Jeeps, hatchbacks, and pick-up trucks, Konstantine approached him, her thumbs hooked into the belt loops of her cutoffs.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked as her stare bored through his bones.
James took one last look at the waves crashing onto the shore before responding with a nod, and the pair walked up the dunes to the small white truck parked at the beach entrance, glowing lavender from the light of the full moon.
An oldies station played in the background, the dials from the radio illuminating the girl’s delicate features. But she was anything but delicate, a young woman fueled by defiance, eyes glaring into the high beams that passed them by.
There was so much James wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the right words. He considered placing his hand on hers in the space between them but quickly shook the thought from his head.
She lived in a house right off of the freeway. More of a shack than a home, but James was grateful to have a serene roof over his head if only for the night, an escape from the two boisterous roommates he shared an apartment in the city with.
Two whitewashed columns were supported by a rickety porch with creaky steps, and nautical blue paint flaked from the siding. Vines wove between the bolsters and shrubs crept into the walkway, like some fucked up Sleeping Beauty’s tower.
The stars shined brighter from the highway than they did in the city, and James found himself gazing towards the heavens as he followed the girl to the porch, his eyes glued to her wrists as she dug around for her keys.
The living room, though sparsely furnished, was warm and inviting. As Konstantine paced around the room, James automatically fell onto the couch, slipping off his sneakers and letting his head rest against the arm. After she finished settling in, checking the messages on her answering machine, and making herself a cup of black instant coffee, Konstantine joined him on the couch, casually sitting on the edge of the plaid-upholstered cushion.
It was the same position they found themselves in every night they spent together, but that night, something different flickered in Konstantine’s green eyes.
For the first time, she kissed him, and as James felt the girl’s soft lips blend into his own, his eyes stayed trained on the oriental rug that laid crooked on the floor.
When the kiss drew to a close, she backed away as if to soak in every inch of the golden-skinned boy and to gauge the possible implications of her actions.
James didn’t give her time to think, he leaned up to meet her, returning her kiss with much more force. This was all he had wanted for so long, but now that it was just within his reach, it had lost its luster.
All of these years of struggling to achieve his dreams, to become an actor, all of this time, he had envisioned her being there with him. Now, it seemed like some played-out delusion that he just wanted to shove away.
His finger traced the tattoo on the back of her neck as his lips clung to her neck. Hazel eyes looked upward with existentialism.
“You’re not going to live forever, Konstantine.”
No words fell from her lips. Instead, her fingers did all of the talking, making haste with unfastening his white button-down.
In the motions it took for them to both shed their clothes, the girl beneath him lost all of her intrigue. And as James gripped the arm of the couch for leverage, he could feel his thoughts grow more and more restless, like an animal in a cage, longing for an escape. Her lips parted beautifully, making a perfect O around his name, but to James, it sounded disgusting, like sick desperation.
As they made love, James could tell she wanted more from him than he could ever give her.
Afterwards, she sank back up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving James alone on the couch, and waves of relief washed over him.
As the violent red numbers on the digital clock flashed 11:11, James realized that Konstantine wasn’t this ethereal figure. She was just a girl, a washed out shell of a human being.
He had stolen everything she was, everything she'd ever be.
And the sounds from the freeway kept him up all night.
The flames flickered between them, throwing shards of light from the green Heineken bottle the girl gripped in her hand, casting a sick glow against her fair, freckled skin.
Jade eyes gazed at him from across the fire, and James refused to break eye contact, even though he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. Things never went anywhere with her. He’d just end up cramped on her couch again, the stream of traffic on the freeway lulling him to sleep.
But even though a part of him knew he wouldn’t win that night, he just couldn’t tear his hazel eyes away. And though he was surrounded by friends and strangers, none of them seemed to mean anything to him except her.
There was just something in everything that she was, some beauty in her mystique and her mannerisms that James couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was the way that she always wore her dirty blonde locks in a lazy side braid that hung just over shoulder, or maybe it was the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed, or the way she just seemed to throw her clothes on her thin frame and walk out the door, with no set image in mind and no portrait she was trying to portray to the world. She was just a girl: no labels, only flesh and bone.
James was intrigued by the fact that he couldn’t define her. She was everything and nothing at the same time.
After the group had dispersed, young bodies climbing into an array of Jeeps, hatchbacks, and pick-up trucks, Konstantine approached him, her thumbs hooked into the belt loops of her cutoffs.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked as her stare bored through his bones.
James took one last look at the waves crashing onto the shore before responding with a nod, and the pair walked up the dunes to the small white truck parked at the beach entrance, glowing lavender from the light of the full moon.
An oldies station played in the background, the dials from the radio illuminating the girl’s delicate features. But she was anything but delicate, a young woman fueled by defiance, eyes glaring into the high beams that passed them by.
There was so much James wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the right words. He considered placing his hand on hers in the space between them but quickly shook the thought from his head.
She lived in a house right off of the freeway. More of a shack than a home, but James was grateful to have a serene roof over his head if only for the night, an escape from the two boisterous roommates he shared an apartment in the city with.
Two whitewashed columns were supported by a rickety porch with creaky steps, and nautical blue paint flaked from the siding. Vines wove between the bolsters and shrubs crept into the walkway, like some fucked up Sleeping Beauty’s tower.
The stars shined brighter from the highway than they did in the city, and James found himself gazing towards the heavens as he followed the girl to the porch, his eyes glued to her wrists as she dug around for her keys.
The living room, though sparsely furnished, was warm and inviting. As Konstantine paced around the room, James automatically fell onto the couch, slipping off his sneakers and letting his head rest against the arm. After she finished settling in, checking the messages on her answering machine, and making herself a cup of black instant coffee, Konstantine joined him on the couch, casually sitting on the edge of the plaid-upholstered cushion.
It was the same position they found themselves in every night they spent together, but that night, something different flickered in Konstantine’s green eyes.
For the first time, she kissed him, and as James felt the girl’s soft lips blend into his own, his eyes stayed trained on the oriental rug that laid crooked on the floor.
When the kiss drew to a close, she backed away as if to soak in every inch of the golden-skinned boy and to gauge the possible implications of her actions.
James didn’t give her time to think, he leaned up to meet her, returning her kiss with much more force. This was all he had wanted for so long, but now that it was just within his reach, it had lost its luster.
All of these years of struggling to achieve his dreams, to become an actor, all of this time, he had envisioned her being there with him. Now, it seemed like some played-out delusion that he just wanted to shove away.
His finger traced the tattoo on the back of her neck as his lips clung to her neck. Hazel eyes looked upward with existentialism.
“You’re not going to live forever, Konstantine.”
No words fell from her lips. Instead, her fingers did all of the talking, making haste with unfastening his white button-down.
In the motions it took for them to both shed their clothes, the girl beneath him lost all of her intrigue. And as James gripped the arm of the couch for leverage, he could feel his thoughts grow more and more restless, like an animal in a cage, longing for an escape. Her lips parted beautifully, making a perfect O around his name, but to James, it sounded disgusting, like sick desperation.
As they made love, James could tell she wanted more from him than he could ever give her.
Afterwards, she sank back up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving James alone on the couch, and waves of relief washed over him.
As the violent red numbers on the digital clock flashed 11:11, James realized that Konstantine wasn’t this ethereal figure. She was just a girl, a washed out shell of a human being.
He had stolen everything she was, everything she'd ever be.
And the sounds from the freeway kept him up all night.