Landfill

We sat inside the restaurant in silence. Nothing had been said when we walked from the car. Inside, it was dark and bustling with happy people; couples.

The hostess led us to a quiet, near secluded booth, and we sat across from one another. The hostess smiled, greeting and being naturally polite. Ryan ordered drinks for us, which I didn't understand since we had to drive back to the hotel, but I didn't question it. Once the hostess left, he looked at his menu as if nothing was wrong. His actions made me sick, I wanted to smack him.

"Are you a robot?" I asked through gritted teeth.

He looked at me, "I'm hungry." He stated without a single expression to his face.

I inhaled, "You're something else," I said in a whisper, "You're... You act as if nothing is wrong."

"Because I'm not pissed off that you're an irrational thinker?" His brows buried.

"I'm an irrational thinker?" My voice rose a bit, "I don't want to be with you, and you drag me in here?"

"We're gonna talk about this." He looked his menu over again.

"Like hell." I stood up, but his hand flew out and grabbed my arm, yanking me down into the vinyl seat.

"Sit down, Nikki." He muttered, "Stop being brash."

I smacked him. I couldn't control it; I smacked him out of anger and fear. I heard a gasp and a whisper. I instantly felt dumb, my cheeks burning hot. Ryan looked down, licking over his lips. I swallowed and looked away, rubbing my neck; "I'm not sorry." I said a second later.

"I wasn't expecting you to be." He replied.

I looked at him, "What do you want from me?" I questioned softly, "What was all this for?"

He frowned, "I love you. Why do you think there's a motive?"

"Because I'm not stupid." I muttered. "Why did you target me?"

"I didn't target you," he exclaimed in a harsh whisper, "Why do you think that?"

I didn't have any reason why. I just sat back and rubbed my neck some more. I dropped my palm, "I want to go home."

Ryan sighed, "I'm sorry, Nikki."

I didn't have anything to say. "I'm not hungry." I finally uttered.

"Too bad, you're gonna eat." Ryan spoke in a playful voice that I would've loved and fawned over, but I really felt hurt.

I sat quietly while Ryan ordered for us; my mind was somewhere else, lost in the depths of thinking of nothing. I didn't bother to listen or look at him; my eyes were on the blue velvet table cloth. How we must've looked coming into this fancy restaurant dressed like teenagers with no sense of style or class we were subjected to. We looked as if we could barely afford to eat out at Denny's, let alone this upscale eatery. Still, they served us as if we were high class and knew which tiny fork to eat our salads with.

"Eat, please." Ryan said after a few minutes of the steak and potatoes he ordered for me steamed in front of me.

It was cooling, but I didn't even want to touch it. My appetite had floundered. My stomach was heavy and empty; it didn't growl, it was just empty. It felt large and hollow. I had to notion to fill it.

"I can't." I answered, "Honestly, I can't."

"Try. I don't want you to fill up on junk food." He ate, pushing his vegetables and mashed potatoes together to stuff into his mouth.

"I won't." I murmured. "I haven't an appetite for anything."

"Nicole," he said my name desperately, "Just eat a little for me."

I looked down at my plate; the food was still hot; the plate was warm. I picked up the dinner fork and forked a steamed carrot, and then broccoli, shoving them into my mouth. The emptiness in my gut got bigger, emptier. The food fell down a hole in me, energizing nothing. I ate some more, and more until the emptiness was filled and I was exhausted.

"Let's go." Ryan said.

I gave a small nod and stood with him. I downed the rest of the white wine; letting it choke me. I managed to swallow it all and follow Ryan out, after he paid.

In the car, he drove, without any other word. The drive was short, back at the hotel, I followed him in. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, if you were looking on the outside. Inside, we were both a mess of actions and truths and unhappiness. I wondered what people saw when they saw us.

In the elevator; it was just us, slowly going up. Ryan stood beside me, and then, he reached out and pressed the emergency stop lift. The elevator jerked, rather gently, to a stop, and I looked at him, grabbing his arm, "What the hell?!"

Ryan tuned and looked at me, "This is going nowhere until you hear me out."

"Hear what out?!" I exclaimed angrily, "I don't want this life and I sure as hell don't need it!"

Ryan stood in front of me, "I'm not going down without a fight."

"I'm not going to fight you. I'm doing what I want." I went to push the floor button again, but Ryan grabbed me. "Stop it."

Ryan grabbed me and pulled me toward him, and then against the far wall. He looked down at me, my anger soaring, I almost shoved my knee upwards. He kissed me, hard but soft against my mouth. I put my hands up, to shove against his chest, but he grabbed my wrist. I was trapped against the wall, his body and the hand railing pushing against my back.

His tongue slipped across my lips and into my mouth without protesting from me. I was becoming gelatin, a form of nothing, a puddle of lust. I couldn't stop myself; conflicting emotions won me over, letting Ryan kiss and touch me.

His hand let go of my wrist, one of them, and maneuvered like a skilled thief. He moved to my jeans and was able to shove his hand through the top and down to the front of my underwear. I moved my mouth, sucking in a breath when he began to rub me through the fabric.

I muttered under my breath, "We can't do this."

"Yes we can." He countered, "There's no one around."

"Ryan," I sighed deeply, "Please."

"I don't want to."

I wasn't protesting, I wanted to, but I couldn't. Not that I didn't want to, my body won over my head; my logic. I finally relented and kissed Ryan back.

His hand moved to unzip my jeans and unbutton them. He then moved onto his own; and I shimmied my jeans down. Ryan let out a groan, kissing me harder, my head hit the wall, but I didn't care at all. I kicked my jeans off, tangling my shoes in them and Ryan pulled my underwear down, his hand gripping my hip tightly. He let go of my wrists and placed both hands on my hips and lifted me up against the wall and railing.

I shuddered when I felt him enter me hard and quick. I groaned against his mouth, again, hitting my head against the wall. His hands held my hips, thrusting into me at a fast pace, panting heavily.

My hands gripped onto his shoulders and then up to tangle into his hair. I attached my mouth onto his neck, and his jaw, nipping and kissing as our bodies hit in a rhythm with our breaths. The moment I felt the sweat beating down my back, the feeling of pleasure bubble through me, the elevator dinged. Ryan hit the emergency stop button again and it jerk to a stop and he kept going, my legs right around his waist. My fingers tightened around his messy hair, holding tight as I felt my orgasm beginning to build quicker and quicker.

Ryan muttered my name in a loud moan, his nails digging into my hips. He move his mouth to my neck and began to suck; I shut my eyes tight, moaning loudly, my fingers gripping tighter as tighter. Finally, I came with an even louder moan, my legs and toes tightening and then relaxing.

Ryan didn't take longer to finish, filling me. I kept my eyes shut; letting my blood buzz, my head spin and all problems wash away. It took a minute before the elevator to buzz again and for Ryan to pull out of me and set me down.

I swallowed thickly, running my hand over my sweaty forehead. He handed me my underwear and jeans, and I hurriedly put them on and leaned against the wall, holding my shoes in my hand. Ryan adjusted his clothes and we waited quietly while the elevator rode up to our floor.

We exited and went down the hall to our room. I felt flushed and angry, my body still gelatin. My legs were stable enough to carry me along.

Inside the room, all was quiet; the sounds of the cars rushing by gave it some warmth. I sat down on the bed, pushing my jeans down my legs and onto the floor. It took a full minute for me to want to get up.

I stood, making my way towards the bathroom. Ryan didn't stop me; he took my spot on the bed and laid back. I wanted to smack him.