Status: In the works right now, heh. btdubbs be a dear and tell me if I'm wasting my time updating this crap story. thnx.

Fancy Pants

Fancy Pants Ch. Eitghteen and sorry this took forever to update

And in the first time in about two, three days – we’re back over at my house, having a sleepover, watching Lifetime. I quickly changed the channel when Reba was over and A Cry For Help: The Tracy Thurman Story was next.

Yeah, no.

I landed on Adult Swim, Family Guy being the current TV show. The episode? Quagmire’s sister and her abusive boyfriend.

Can I catch a break, god damn. We’ve been pretty good for the past week or so, haven’t you noticed?

Thankfully, I didn’t stay on either channel long enough for Emma to pick up on what they were about. I eventually settled with Food Network, thinking there was no show that could bite me in the butt.

We skipped back and forth between Food Network and TBS until about midnight. We went to the kitchen and made popcorn, then went back to my room and played video games. We spent half our night on my bedroom floor.

So far, nothing was setting us back. Nothing she or I did pissed me off. Everything was great. It seemed like we were all good, until…

“Emmaaa, stop eating all the popcorn.”

“Nah,” she said, popping a few more into her mouth. I teasingly glared at her, but sat still for a few more seconds before I lunged at her, trying to grab the bowl, but she turned the other way, towering over it.

She shoved a handful into her mouth. “Not this time, sucka.”

“You’re so unfair,” I said, arms crossed over my chest. She shrugged as I continued on. “You do the same thing with the blankets -”

“I do not!” she defended herself, sitting up straight again.

“Do to,” I stated, sticking my tongue out at her.

“Do not.” She stuck her tongue at me.

“Do to-the-mother-effing to,” I said, like I was from the ‘ghetto,’ head bob and all. Holding back a smile, she sat there, staring at me, narrowing her eyes…before grabbing a handful of popcorn and throwing it in my face.

My jaw hung open in fake shock, and I grabbed a handful too, and threw it in her face. Her jaw dropped, too, and then giggles came from her mouth when I jumped on top of her, tickling her.

I grabbed her sides one last time before getting off her, and then did something I knew she really hoped I wouldn’t. I grabbed her right foot and started tickling it. Her feet are REALLy ticklish, so she jumped and ‘roared’ with laughter.

“DODGER, STOP-AAHHahahaHAHhAHkhhaxb—oh…”

Her left foot kicked out and knocked over her pop…onto my phone – it continued to spill onto the carpet and reached my book bag, splashing onto the front pocket where my $116 graphing calculator was.

So not only my phone but possibly my expensive calculator was soaked in Ginger Ale.

We both immediately stopped.

I tried - I really did - to hold back a scream. I grabbed my phone and the pool of pop sloshed off it. I went for my book bag, yanking it out of the growing puddle. Looking between the two, it felt like my chest was being squeezed tightly in someone fist.

I blasted a scowl at her pale face.

The need to yell and scream at her grew too hard to ignore. I tried to sigh all the anger out. It didn’t work.


“I-I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry…”

“You’re sorry?” I wanted to laugh sneeringly. “Do you have any idea how much this shit costs? I can’t just go buy a new one.”

The words I can’t believe slipped came out so easily.

“I could kill you right now.”

“I didn’t mean to - ” she started before gasping.

My hand whipped back and slapped her, hard, once again across the face. It felt so natural to hit her like it was nothing new, and at the same time, it was all so wrong, but it was like I didn’t have any control over what I did to her.

She dropped her head to the ground immediately. I knew I couldn’t stop myself from doing it again.

She must’ve too because she jumped up, running for the door. She started to scream, only getting a whimper out. I grabbed and threw her onto the bed, climbing on top.

Before my eyes she morphed into David, his dumb smile on his face. As he laughed, I swear I could hear a girlish cry of pain, but I hit him again anyway. And then again.

The thought of finally beating the shit out of him was so irresistible.

My hands went to close around his throat. He still laughed and laughed before his expression changed drastically and he started to grimace like he was crying in agony.

He sobbed out in a high pitched girl voice, “Please, stop!” But I couldn’t. I got one more hit out into his stomach before the loud cry pieced my ears and all around me was blurry. I could hear my heart beat pound in my head.

As everything cleared, David melted back into fragile Emma.

Chewy was barking madly from the edge of the bed.

I dreaded tearing my eyes from him to see what condition Emma was in, but did anyway. She had blood dripping from her mouth and nose. Her eyes were clamped shut, mouth letting out nearly mute cries. Her body shook every time she made loud whimpers.

She kept crying, “Please stop,” over and over.

There was a sharp pain in my chest and I cupped my mouth with my hand. Now the loud cry slipped from me. I’m surprised she didn’t scream at me to get away from her when I dropped my head onto her chest.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t stop.”

She started to cry harder and even louder. The more she cried, the louder Chewy barked. I didn’t yell at him to shut up; I couldn’t move at all. I was stunned when she hesitantly wrapped her arms around me for an attempt at a hug.

My bedroom door suddenly flung open and hit the wall My mom flipped on the main light.

“What is going on in here? It’s midnight.” Her face dropped as she looked at Emma. “What…?” She stared at me in sheer shock.

“What did you do to her?” she asked quietly at first then she got more impatient, voice getting louder.

“What did you do to her?” she nearly screamed.

“I -” I couldn’t explain myself. I’m a monster. “I…Mom, please listen to me.”

“No. You - you hurt her. You…”

Her screams became muffled as did Emma’s cries. They grew louder and louder to me and I clamped my hands over my ears.

I wanted to die. I needed to die.

My heart ached in my chest and I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t - I…everything was getting hazy and I jolted awake. This was second time I ever sat up straight, breathing fast from a dream.

More like a nightmare.

The TV was on and bounced some light around my otherwise dark room. I heard a soft groan from beside me and looked down to see Emma fast asleep. No more bruises or blood on her face. Just peacefulness as she slept, completely unaware of my ‘dream.’

I was relived it didn’t actually happen, but I knew at some point, it might. It scared me so much. I wanted to wake her up and tell her we needed to break up right now, so she could get away from me before something like my dream came true.

I knew she wouldn’t want to break up; I knew if I said anything about that, she’d fight to stay.

There was something satisfying about that. Knowing no matter what I did to her, she wouldn’t leave.

I laid back down to wrap my arms around her sleeping body for a hug. She snuggled close and sighed deeply.

I had nothing to worry about. She’ll never leave.


I absolutely despised myself when I woke up the next morning. Be it because of my dream or the last thing I thought before falling asleep. I was really, really starting to hate myself.

I had nothing to worry about.

She’ll never leave.

Sitting at the dining room table, I pinched the bridge of my nose.
I can’t believe I didn’t feel disgusted when I thought that. I had to do something about this. I don’t want to hurt her anymore; just because it happened once, doesn’t mean it won’t happen again.

As if on cue, my mom strolled in from the living room.

Stretching, she asked, “Did Emma leave?”

“No.” I shook my head, biting my nails. She opened the fridge, getting out a Propel. “She’s still sleeping.”

“Oh.” She snapped open the Propel, closing the fridge. Before she went back into the living room, chugging her drink, I hesitantly spoke.

“Uh, Mom?”

She cranked her neck back to me. “Hmm?”

I took a deep breath. I needed to do this.

“Can I…talk to you about something without you castrating me?” I peeked up at her to see her eyebrows rise and eyes open as she contemplated what it was I wanted to talk about that could cause that kind of reaction out of her.

There was a few seconds before she nodded.

“Of course.” She sat down in the chair beside me. “What is it?”

“Ah…” I thought of how to word it. “I, uhm…You and dad…I…” It was so hard to say it. I sighed. Her brows furrowed. She began to worry.

“Dodger,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

But I couldn’t get it out.

I hit Emma. Say it.

I took the long route.

“I did something,” I began. “Something…bad.”

“Like what?”

“I…hur-…We had a fight - well, not a fight. More like me being…a douche.”

She shifted in her seat, cocking her head to the side. “A fight? With who?”



My jaw hurt from me grinding my teeth. My mouth wouldn’t let me say what I did. I stammered.

“And…And I…hit…her.”

She didn’t look like she believed me at first. She just sat there, looking at me. Then her facial expression plummeted. I thought once I said it to someone, maybe I’d feel better for letting it out, but I didn’t. I felt loathed as she stared at me. She shook her head.

“No,” she said, letting out a scoff. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“No,” she repeated, louder this time. “You wouldn’t…It’s because of him, isn’t it? Just because he did it, doesn’t mean you have to -”

“I know,” I said, stopping her. “And maybe it is because of him; I don’t know, but…I did it, and…I don’t know what to do now. She says she forgives me and I know she shouldn’t - she knows she shouldn’t, but…and…I don’t want hurt her again, Mom.”

I could feel tears well up in my eyes. I hated myself for doing that to her.

My voice cracked as I asked, “What should I do?”

Again, she looked at me with a blank face. Finally she said, “You want my honest opinion, right?”

I nodded.

“Then break up with her -”

I shook my head, knowing that was a lost cause. “She won’t let me -”

“You have to,” she stated. “If you love her like I think you do, you have to do it. Let her know it’s not her fault. But you have to before it gets worse.”

I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to lose her. Why’d I have to go be stupid? If I just kept it all inside, all the pointless anger, we wouldn’t be talking about this. But it happened and I knew my mom had some experience with the subject. She’s giving me the advice she wished someone had given her. Maybe if I listened to her, everything would be okay.

Emma might be upset and mad at me for doing it, but eventually she’ll realize it’s for the best.

She’ll understand sooner or later.

But I felt selfish. I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t want someone else to have her when she should still be mine.

Brendon. He’s going to go after her if we break up. I know he will.


If I can’t have her, no one will.


Emma woke up within the next hour and joined me out in the living room. We sat and watched TV for a few hours, occasionally getting up to go into the kitchen. I spent the time thinking of how I’d end it with her - if I could get myself to do it.

As much as I didn’t want to, I needed to.

But I just kept getting reminded of Brendon and how lame my life would be without her and that made me chicken out every time I got anywhere close to doing it.

I didn’t really mind holding off on saying it. If this was the last time we hung out as a couple, I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could.

The buzzer on the stove beeped, meaning the oven was hot enough to bake a frozen pizza.

Emma clapped her hands together, excited. “Oh, it’s ready!” She hopped up from the couch, pulling me up with her. I followed her into the kitchen. I was the one who took the pizza out of the box and the plastic wrap, setting it on a cookie sheet, then popped it into the oven as she danced in place.

We stayed in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, talking until my mom came in.

Emma greeted my mom with a big smile. She returned it but when Emma went to the sink to pour out her orange juice, my mom frowned and gave me a look that said ‘Do it. Now.’

I waved her off, going to do it when I wanted to, and that wasn’t now.

She told us she was going to head over to Brendon’s for a bit to talk with his mother about something or other.

Unfortunately, at the mention of his name, I wanted to rip someone’s face off. Instead of taking the anger out of someone else, namely Emma, I held it in, but I knew it was ultimately going to demand to be felt. I just hoped it was long after Emma went home.

“Can I trust you two alone?” my mom asked, obviously hinting its double meaning at me.

Emma laughed, sticking her nose up at me, going over to sit at the table. I wanted to say no so she wouldn’t leave in case she really couldn’t leave us alone, but nodded like she shouldn’t even have to ask that.

We bid my mother a farewell and remained in the kitchen until the oven beeped. I pulled the pizza out not wanting Emma to burn her hand - or even worse, do something like drop the pizza, because all this pent up anger was ready to be let out at anything slightly annoying.

“Can I use this?” she asked, holding a rare specimen: ceramic plate. Woah. It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of those. We never use real silverware and dishes in this house. It’s always paper or plastic.

We're cheap.

“That’s fine.”

We got a couple slices onto separate plates and sat at the dining room table to eat, watching TV from there.

“I drew a picture of King Kong attacking the Washington Monument in my math book today,” the most amazing human-being in the world informed me, grabbing half a handful of Ritz out of their box and placing it back on the table.

“It was pretty nifty, if I do say so myself.”

She passed the Ritz box my way.

“I so wanna see that.”

She nodded, shoving half of a Ritz into her mouth as she stood from the table, walked over to the couch where her book bag was sitting, opened it up, took out what I would believe to be her math book, and then walked back over to the table…

Whoa. That was an extremely long sentence…almost made no sense.

She sat the math book down and pushed it towards me.

I gratefully took it. “What page?” I asked, mouth full of Ritz.


I flipped to the page and as I stared down at page eighty-two, I marveled at the sight. There was tiny yet detailed drawing of King Kong hanging on the side of the Washington Monument, aero-planes and clouds circling around him – one aero-plane in his hand.

I mentally sniffled. It was beautiful.

“This is awesome!”

“Thanks,” she said, but only half wholeheartedly. She was more focused on the box of Ritz that she was holding than what I thought of her artwork.

“Welcome…?” I said, eyeing her. It looked like she was writing something.

Just as I was about to ask her what it was, a phone rang from the living room and she was up to answer it.


I took this as an opportunity to see what it was. I grabbed the box and laughed. You know where it says ‘Ritz. Open for fun.’? Well, she marked out ‘Ritz.’ and wrote under it ‘Legs.” so it now read: ‘Legs. Open for fun.”

I love her.

After being on the phone for approximately thirty seconds, Emma walked back into the kitchen. “It was my mom,” she said, grabbing a hold of her pizza sauce covered plate.

“And what did she say?”

She set the plate on the edge of the counter, twisting on the sink faucet. Big mistake. She turned around momentarily to answer me.

“I have to be home soon.”

Spinning back around, her elbow knocked into the plate.

Time slooowwwwed as we both stared wide-eyed at it. It rocked back and forth, tittering between a foot drop into the sink and absolute destruction in the disguise of a three foot plummet to the kitchen floor.

Please don’t…

This might be the last time we hang out as a couple. Please don’t let it end with me yelling at her.

As an answer, the plate tipped heavily towards the kitchen floor. My heart stopped beating. No matter what happens…don’t explode at her. She obviously didn’t mean to.

In the last second, it rocked back one more time and clattered into the sink.

A universal sigh of relief.

Oh thank God -…crap.

There was a loud clang as the impact of the plate hit all the other dishes in the sink - one being the cookie sheet. It whacked against a drinking glass which stupidly sat on the counter, in reach of the cookie sheet.

No, no, no, no.

But as we all know, not even Nationwide is on my side. The glass toppled over and shattered against the floor.

Emma hopped up into the air, shrieking at the sound. She managed to not step on any glass, hopping over several feet to stand by the fridge.

Glass laid all over the floor. Glass I’ll have to clean up.

Because of her.

Stop. She didn’t mean to. It was an accident.

But all hell was only just beginning to break loose. Her back hit the fridge and sent packages of food and Ziplock bags crashing down from it.

Oh my God. I couldn’t explain the massive amount of annoyance I felt. If she does one more thing, I was going to kill her.

She looked around her after flinching. She slowly glanced up to give me an awkward smile.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s fine.

Say it out loud, dummy. She can’t read your mind. But I couldn’t spit it out. All this crap I was going to have to clean.

“Pick it up,” I snapped out instead.

Without hesitation, she nodded quickly, bending down to grab about five packages of macaroni and the Ziplock bags up. One thing I didn’t think of was the height difference between her and the top of the fridge.

She stood on her tippy-toes to return the fallen items. She pushed the Ziplocks back on top, but they didn’t stay in place for long. Going for the macaroni, she almost didn’t see the box tip back over.

Luckily, she caught it at the last second.

Taking precautionary measures, she jumped up slightly to shove the box back where it was…it collided with a basket full of nothing that had no business being up there in the first place.

She froze when it tumbled to the ground.

Why is she so fucking clumsy?

She tried to quickly apologize again, but I didn’t want to hear it.

“Shut up.”

She looked taken back. She eyed me in confusion.


“Just shut up.”

But she wouldn’t. She breathed out, “Dodger.”

The way that stupid accent said my name…I wanted to hit her. I slid the chair back, hand aching to hit something. Hoping this was enough, I slammed my hand down on the counter. Emma flinched back.

She began to frown, her brows furrowing, making her big eyes looks sad.

I needed to hit something…someone. My heart felt like it was going to explode if I didn’t.

When I got closer, Emma backed up until she touched the fridge door. She dropped her head to the ground immediately.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice breaking. Her thinking that was enough of an apology for being a dumb, clumsy bitch made me want to hit her more.

But there was a voice in the back of my mind that told me to listen to her. This wasn’t worth losing her over.

My fist slowly started to unclench at the sight of her bracing herself for a hit.

She can’t be here anymore. She needed to leave.

“You should go home,” I muttered, taking a few steps back in case she wanted to run out of here.

She stayed in her huddled position before blinking up at me.


“Leave. Now.”


“Emma - go.”

Her eyes started to get glossy, but she sighed, slowly walking passed me. I didn’t follow her into the living room or into my room as she got her stuff. I went back to the dining room table and waited until I heard her walk back into the living room.

I stayed with my back facing her. I faintly heard her sniffle before she whispered, “I’ll…see you later.” I didn’t answer her. The front door slowly creaked open and closed.

I let my head drop into my hands. In the mist of all the emotions I was feeling, one was self-assurance. I didn’t hit her, though I really, really wanted to. Maybe we could work it out.

No. I wasn’t a complete idiot. There was no way that could happen. I had to break up with her.


To: Emma
From: Me
I’m at Herrlinger. Meet me

To: Me
From: Emma
It’s 10am. whhhyyyyy?

To: Emma
From: Me
I need to talk to you.

I sent it before I really thought about it. I should’ve chosen a different wording. She sent back an ‘Okay?’

Waiting for her to take the ten minute walk here felt like ages. Even when she’d eventually get here, I know it would take even longer for me to spit out.

I sat at the picnic table, facing where we would normally walk through together, where I expected her to come walking through. But from behind me I heard a yelp. I turned around and saw Emma save herself from falling all the way to the ground.

I cracked a smile at her that didn’t last long. It slowly fell, and I felt…uneasy. But quickly smiled again when she got closer, only a few feet away.

“So,” she said throwing a plate in the trash. I suspect pizza rolls. She hesitantly sat down on the bench next to me - hopefully - unintentionally leaving a lot of space between us.

She continued, “Whattcha need?”

I frowned, knowing she had a reason for not sitting right next to me. I tried smiling as I said, “Why are you sitting so far away?” and then scooted towards her.

She instantly flinched away from me. My smile fell again.

She gazed at me before moving herself a little closer.

She was scared of me.

I looked to where there used to be a bruise. It wasn’t there anymore. I quickly replaced the frown with a kidish smile.

“Oh…uhm…” I looked over to the swings, and she looked down at the ground.

Just say it. She’s probably over there freaking out inside. Don’t leave her hanging longer than she needs to. But I couldn’t say it.

Instead, I smiled at her. “Wanna swing?”

“Swing?” she asked. “You…wanted to swing wi- You asked me to come over here to swing?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

I grabbed her arm, pulling her over to the swings. She looked at me with a confused smile, so I pushed her down into a swing, and got behind her. I pushed her like she was a little kid. Evan did the ‘underdog’ thing, and she even giggled like a little girl.

After swinging for quite some time, I got in front of her and slowed her to a stop. This was it. I have to say it now.

I opened my mouth to blurt it, but her little smile stopped me. I didn’t want this to be the last time she smiles at me like that.

I’m going to miss her so much.

Before she could ask what I really wanted to talk to her about, I said, “LET’S GO OVER HERE,” and ran to the other side of the park, where the slides and stuff were. She got up and ran after me. I sprinted up the steps to the double slides, and sat at the top of the right one, and patted the other slide to the left of me.

She smiled, sitting down next to me. And again, just as she was about to ask, I slid down the slide. But she didn’t. She just sat there, watching me. When I got down to the bottom, I looked up at her, but didn’t say anything, and then ran up the steps again.

And instead of going down the slide again, I got behind her, and then shoved her down. She almost shot off of it, but didn’t. She managed to stop herself at the last second and laid back, and looked back up at me. I just motioned for her to hurry up, so she did.

When she got up to where I was, I ran across the ‘bridge’ to what we call ‘The Slidey thingy’. (Author: I have no idea what it’s called, but you grab onto this thing and then idk…you slide across it? Yeah…idunno.) She followed me across the park. And then I hopped off the ledge, going to get the thing you hold onto. I told her to get ready, and then I shot it over to her.

But she missed it, so I tried again, a few more times.

She missed until the third try.

She hopped off the edge, soaring to the other side, and then halfway back. Because she’s short and couldn’t reach the ground, she just dangled in the air.

I laughed at her and walked up to help her down, but kind of gave her a hug. She wrapped her legs around my torso and let go of the slider thingy, holding onto my shoulders.

I don’t know whether it was because her boobs were like very close to my face, or just cause, but I didn’t let me go right away. She was okay with that.

We spent what seemed like the rest of the day at the park, and you already know, I avoided her question the whole time.

Until we went down the big slide for the twentieth time. I pulled her onto my lap, and we both went down the slide at the same time.

When we got to the bottom, I held her in a tight hug.

She laughed a bit and asked, “So, seriously, what’d you want to talk about?”

Surprising myself, I didn’t get up and say we should go play on the monkey bars again. I sighed and said, “Uhm, let’s-let’s -“

I pushed her up and grabbed her hand, pulling her back over to the picnic tables.

I told her to sit down, and she did, but I didn’t immediately sit down. Now this definitely was the last time we will hang out as a couple. I’ll never be able to kiss her again. Possibly the last time I hear that little Italian voice talk in all its horrid grammar. Anything.

I stood there looking at her then leaned down to kiss her.

I finally sat down next to her. I didn’t answer her right away. I slouched over and rubbed my jaw, trying to figure out how to word it.

“Uh, oh,” she said, pouting. “This can’t be good…right?”

I couldn’t answer her, just looked at her and frowned. I sat up straight, looking right ahead of us, and then at her for a few seconds.

“I…I think…You know I love you, right? Like, so much.”

She nodded warily.

“Good, good. Uhm…” I sighed again. “I…I think- I think that we should…”

I swallowed. I didn’t dare look at her as I said, “I think that we should break up.”

Oh my God. I said it. Only took me about an hour, but I said it.

I imagined the ‘dun dun’ sound and a dramatic close up to her face. I looked at her quickly to see her staring at me with brows crinkled. She looked like I had just threw a car into her gut.

“Wha--…” A cry caught in her throat. “Wha- You’re joking, right?” I shook my head. “W-…why? Why? You’re breaking up with me? Why?”

I just sat there, looking straight ahead.

So she continued to say, “No. Why? What did I do? Is something wrong with me?”

I looked up. “No, nothing’s wrong with you. It’s just—“

“Then why are you breaking up with me? You, you said you loved me; why-why are you…?”

“Because,” I said loudly. “Because I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I…”

“You don’t want to hurt me anymore?” she asked. “Did, did you ever think that this hurts me too? Maybe a lot more than-than you…hitting me? It does.”

Seeing a tear slip out of her eye, I cupped her face and wiped under her eyes.

“No, you don’t get it.”

She pulled away. “Don’t get it? Don’t get what? Please. Tell me. And I can try.”

I let her go. “You don’t get that – my dad…and my mom. They, when they dated like way back in high school…They were okay at first – this was back when he was, I don’t know – nice? And they – I don’t know. Apparently, one day he just, he hit her. And…they never broke up or anything; they stayed together, and…he got worse. And now she’s-she’s scared of him. And…I don’t want it to be like that for us.”

“But…I don’t want to break up.”

I sighed. “I know. I don’t want to either—”

“I don’t want it to end,” she said. “I’ll get over it. Just please…”

She literally climbed onto my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. She let out a cry into my shoulder. Fuck. I hoped she wouldn’t cry. That just made this a zillion times harder to do. I tensed up at first, but relaxed, hugging her back, kissing her neck a few times.

“I don’t want it to end,” she said again, like if she said it enough, it wouldn’t. “Please, Dodger.”

My jaw clenched, but not in the bad way. My eyes burned and I sighed to hold in a stupid tear. I swear I’ll cry myself to sleep tonight.

She kept repeating ‘please’ over and over again, occasionally throwing in ‘But…I love you’ and all that jazz.

I wanted to say something - anything to let her know this wasn’t her fault; none of it was. - but stayed quiet, and let her cry it out.

Eventually, she couldn’t cry anymore. We just sat there. I honestly expected her to yell at me and storm off, so the fact that she’s still here - hugging me, even - was a plus to me. I didn’t want to let her go.

I got a few more kissing to her neck before she pulled away.

“Why are you doing this to me?” She shifted her eyes right in front of mine when I darted them away. “Why? I - I…I gave it up to you - I gave you everything, and now you’re breaking up with me. And you were…my first love – my first everything. And now it’s over. You don’t care about me anymore? We’re just over like that? What did I do?”

She wasn’t going to stop blaming herself. She wasn’t going to listen to me. Anything I say will just go over her head.

She dropped back down to cry into my shoulder.


I hate my life.

I really wouldn’t mind not waking up tomorrow.
♠ ♠ ♠
Is this your heart? In my hands?