This Is Only a Test
you're not supposed to know
“Remember the first time we met?” Fazzi murmurs quietly, his thumb wiping a clear path of water across her cheek. He thinks about taking a chance and kissing her, just to see how it feels. Just to feel that fireworks display go off and warm his chest, like the first time he knew he was in love with her. “Remember?”
“Yeah,” Matt sniffs, her eyes closing for a split moment, “Yeah. You tried sticking your hand up my skirt, so I kicked you in the balls.”
“And gave me a black eye.” Fazzi adds, a gentle smile on his face. Oh, how he’d hate to see her go. He doesn’t want her too, he can fix this. He can. “I wore that sucker for the rest of the month.”
He brings Matt’s face closer to him, as he kisses her. Her mouth is so tiny, and her lips so captivating, just like old times. If only he were addicted to that instead.
He’s not a fucking addict.
“And our first date,” Fazzi continues, mumbling against her lips, while subtly pulling her closer into the apartment. He can fix this. “Do you remember?”
“The movie theater,” Matt smiles in remembrance, not at Fazzi’s gorgeous face, or that smile. She could never smile at someone like him, “Where we watched—“
“—Sweeny Todd.”
“And you touched my chest.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“I kicked you in the balls again,” Matt states matter-of-factly. She looks at him, those goddamned brown eyes staring at her, making her feel guilty. No, no. she has no need to feel guilty, this is all his fault.
The fucking heroin addict.
“That you did,” Fazzi whispers. “It hurt—“
“—Where is this going?” Matt asks angrily. “Where--? Because there’s nothing you can do—“
Fazzi kisses her, but she pushes away.
No. no. NO. He’s not allowed.
“You know I hate competition.”
Another couple of tears fall down her eyes, and Fazzi wants to catch them, but he knows his hand might disappear if he does. She stares at him, eyes red and puffy, and it’s like nothing he’s ever seen before.
Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn.
“You know how competitive I am.”
Fazzi’s quiet because he knows she’s right. She’s right and that’s the worst part. Right about everything. He could’ve, he should’ve—
But he didn’t.
He didn’t. He didn’t and now Shit Creek is drowning him with his ignorance. Fuck.
“Did you even think of me?”
Fazzi doesn’t speak, but Matt is looking at him expectantly, so he sighs.
“All the time.”
“I bet was trying to hide what whore you did—“
“Matt—“
“DON’T ‘MATT’ ME!” She yells. “DON’T SAY ANYTHING. YOU KNOW I CAN’T COMPETE BETWEEN YOU AND THE DRUGS, SO WHY THE FUCK DO IT?!?”
She nearly collapses, but Fazzi catches her. She lets him, and he rubs her back, nestling his face atop her head.
“It’s not a competition.” Fazzi whispers, softly. “It's not a competition.”
“You’re right. It’s not,” Matt rubs her eyes. “Because you love the drugs more. And—“ She pauses, looking him in the eye, “—and I’m not okay with that. So I’ll pick my stuff up on Thursday.”
It’s quiet, too quiet and Fazzi asks, “Why are you making me choose?”
“You shouldn’t have to choose.” Matt shakes her head, but then looks at him funny. “You shouldn’t have to choose between love, or drugs, it’s not—“ She swallows, "—You shouldn't have to choose. You shouldn't be in this situation."
“But I choose you.”
“No, you don’t. You made your choice when you thought you could hide everything from me.”
Matt stares Fazzi down, and he cowers under her gaze.
“I love you,” She says quietly, “But you’re a fucking asshole. I thought you were unlike everybody else.”
And with that, she leaves. Just leaves.
She walked out of his life, just like that, with an ‘I love you, and have a nice fucking day’.
He closes the door, and sits on his couch thinking.
It doesn’t matter now, nothing matters now. The only thing that mattered, left.
He finds a couple of spare needles in the bathroom, and as he carefully injects, he starts to forget. Forgetting is good, because nothing matters. And it’s okay.
It’s okay because he’ll always have his drugs.
“Yeah,” Matt sniffs, her eyes closing for a split moment, “Yeah. You tried sticking your hand up my skirt, so I kicked you in the balls.”
“And gave me a black eye.” Fazzi adds, a gentle smile on his face. Oh, how he’d hate to see her go. He doesn’t want her too, he can fix this. He can. “I wore that sucker for the rest of the month.”
He brings Matt’s face closer to him, as he kisses her. Her mouth is so tiny, and her lips so captivating, just like old times. If only he were addicted to that instead.
He’s not a fucking addict.
“And our first date,” Fazzi continues, mumbling against her lips, while subtly pulling her closer into the apartment. He can fix this. “Do you remember?”
“The movie theater,” Matt smiles in remembrance, not at Fazzi’s gorgeous face, or that smile. She could never smile at someone like him, “Where we watched—“
“—Sweeny Todd.”
“And you touched my chest.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“I kicked you in the balls again,” Matt states matter-of-factly. She looks at him, those goddamned brown eyes staring at her, making her feel guilty. No, no. she has no need to feel guilty, this is all his fault.
The fucking heroin addict.
“That you did,” Fazzi whispers. “It hurt—“
“—Where is this going?” Matt asks angrily. “Where--? Because there’s nothing you can do—“
Fazzi kisses her, but she pushes away.
No. no. NO. He’s not allowed.
“You know I hate competition.”
Another couple of tears fall down her eyes, and Fazzi wants to catch them, but he knows his hand might disappear if he does. She stares at him, eyes red and puffy, and it’s like nothing he’s ever seen before.
Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn.
“You know how competitive I am.”
Fazzi’s quiet because he knows she’s right. She’s right and that’s the worst part. Right about everything. He could’ve, he should’ve—
But he didn’t.
He didn’t. He didn’t and now Shit Creek is drowning him with his ignorance. Fuck.
“Did you even think of me?”
Fazzi doesn’t speak, but Matt is looking at him expectantly, so he sighs.
“All the time.”
“I bet was trying to hide what whore you did—“
“Matt—“
“DON’T ‘MATT’ ME!” She yells. “DON’T SAY ANYTHING. YOU KNOW I CAN’T COMPETE BETWEEN YOU AND THE DRUGS, SO WHY THE FUCK DO IT?!?”
She nearly collapses, but Fazzi catches her. She lets him, and he rubs her back, nestling his face atop her head.
“It’s not a competition.” Fazzi whispers, softly. “It's not a competition.”
“You’re right. It’s not,” Matt rubs her eyes. “Because you love the drugs more. And—“ She pauses, looking him in the eye, “—and I’m not okay with that. So I’ll pick my stuff up on Thursday.”
It’s quiet, too quiet and Fazzi asks, “Why are you making me choose?”
“You shouldn’t have to choose.” Matt shakes her head, but then looks at him funny. “You shouldn’t have to choose between love, or drugs, it’s not—“ She swallows, "—You shouldn't have to choose. You shouldn't be in this situation."
“But I choose you.”
“No, you don’t. You made your choice when you thought you could hide everything from me.”
Matt stares Fazzi down, and he cowers under her gaze.
“I love you,” She says quietly, “But you’re a fucking asshole. I thought you were unlike everybody else.”
And with that, she leaves. Just leaves.
She walked out of his life, just like that, with an ‘I love you, and have a nice fucking day’.
He closes the door, and sits on his couch thinking.
It doesn’t matter now, nothing matters now. The only thing that mattered, left.
He finds a couple of spare needles in the bathroom, and as he carefully injects, he starts to forget. Forgetting is good, because nothing matters. And it’s okay.
It’s okay because he’ll always have his drugs.
♠ ♠ ♠
:/