Pallid

"What are you staring at, huh?"

There are a bunch of hickeys and love bites and marks all over her and I want to be sick (and I am). I know it's still Celeste underneath all that, and I know that the Celeste I fell in love with is deep down inside.

This Celeste isn't my Celeste anymore.

"I'm talking to you, Rhys."

I don't know what to say anymore, so I don't say anything at all and take to staring at the ceiling, biting my lip.

"Oh, so now you can't look at me, huh? Is that it?"

"Do you love him?"

"What? Don't be stupid, Rhys. Of course I do," she scolds. I turn and she's sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling her shirt over her head. She saunters over to the other side of the room and grabs a shirt from the dresser. She turns around, arms at her sides as she clutches at the shirt.

"Do you love me?"

"I told you not to be stupid," she says, laughing condescendingly. "Stop staring." She turns around and pulls the flimsy shirt over her head. She climbs on to the bed, bunching the pillow under her head.

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"If you love him so much, why are you still here?"

"What?"

"I didn't stutter, Celeste. You love him, right? So you should be with him and not me. It only makes sense." She sighs and clicks her tongue, annoyed. She sits up and takes all of the sheets and throws them on the floor with her pillow. She lies down on the floor.

"Go to hell, Rhys."