But You're Not Mine.

Along with being best friends, Noel and I were drinking pals. And there were times when we'd get drunk together on weekends when she didn't want to be with her beau. I would drink to try and drown the feelings she blossomed every time she was near and she would drink to forget. She could handle her liquor well, but she was a heavy drinker. I sort of wished that she would just vomit and pass out on the floor so I could save myself the shame.

When Noel indulged herself in alcohol, she wasn't the giggly and playful kind of drunk portrayed in films. No, when Noel was daring enough to drown herself in alcohol, she was wild. She wasn't the calm and collected girl that she usually was. And the whole duration became nonexistent by morning. It wouldn't mind as much if I wasn't in love with the girl.

It wouldn't get under my skin and haunt my dreams at night if I didn't have feelings for her. We were supposed to simply be best friends, nothing more, nothing less. And if we were just that, I wouldn't even dare to put my hands on her, let alone fuck her.

I didn't even think that she ever knew that we had sex. As a matter of fact, I knew she didn't. But I did. And that's what made it hurt.

Drunk Noel was different than the Sober Noel. Drunk Noel made it harder for me to tell myself that there weren't any underlying feelings for me underneath the surface of her pallid skin. Because when she had ditched all morals of staying sober, she would tease me, taunt me, call me names, hug me, try to cuddle me, kiss me, lower herself on her knees and toy with me. I could have been the friend I vowed to always be and stopped her. And I would have. But I wanted Noel more than anything I've ever wanted and these moments were my guilty pleasures.

And at the moment, Noel was - to my pleasure and my despise - going down on me, her sallow blue eyes looking up at me with a gleam of want in her eyes.

I returned the favor to the beauty a half hour later, taking bittersweet pride in the way her body quivered.

The whole endeavor wouldn't upset me so much if she didn't wake in the morning in the morning, sprawled out on the sofa with a tired grin asking me where the hickies on my neck came from as if she wasn't the one to put them there. If only she knew that there were of the coin-size bruises scattered across my chest, across my pelvic bone.

On that particular night, though, I forgot to tuck her in on the sofa and fell asleep with her slim frame of small bones and pale skin lying underneath me.



There was a dull poking sensation on my collarbone. It was constant and after a few seconds, it was beginning to bother me. "Quit," I mumbled, opening my eyes reluctantly. Sunlight shone cut into my eyes and I sat up, the backs of my fists immediately blocking it out. "Fuckin' hell, Noel, close the curtains."

"No, it's two in the afternoon." I felt her hand slap across my face and huffed, placing my hands on my stomach so that I could look at her. She had a frown placed on her chapped lips as she set on the end of my bed with her backpack, fully dressed and her dark hair thrown into a messy bun.

I bit my lip, knowing by the look on her face that I've fucked up. "G'afternoon," I managed, running a hand through my hair. "You look nice today."

"Good afternoon, Ev." Her reply was curt and then, "You're a sick bastard, did you know that? For a second, I thought that I had another one of those fucked up dreams of mine, but when I woke up half naked - " Noel took a deep breath to regain her composure. "Everett, what happened last night?"

I almost smiled and told her that we fucked - we didn't - just to get another reaction out of he besides her solemn display of anger. I sighed. "What makes you think that I remember?"

I watched her, watched her closely enough to see her squeeze her eyes shut as her ears flared rubicund. "We've been friends for almost two years and you've always been the more responsible drinker. Everett, I've got a headache and I - "

"Honey, that's called a hangover. Would you like some Tylenol?" I offered, beginning to peel the covers back. Noel was glaring at me, her nails digging into the inside of her hand. "Noel, all you did was suck my dick. And all I did? I was a gentlemen and returned the favor."

That did it. That definitely did it. Because the next thing I knew, she was crawling over my bed to hit me. "You sick bastard!" Her fists were beating into my chest, her nostrils flaring as she furrowed her brow. "Why the fuck - "

My fingers curled around her wrist and held her arms in front of her face. "Why is it just my fault, huh? Maybe shit like this wouldn't happen if you weren't stupid enough to get drunk and not be able to control yourself. Everything that happened last night, you initiated. You were the one that kissed me, you were that one that decided that it'd be a good idea to wrap your little lips around - "

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! Just stop! You know how it's your fault? Because you let me. You let me get drunk, you let me - " Noel's voice cracked and I could feel my stomach churning at the sight of her crying. "I don't belong to you and I never will. Ev, you were a mistake," she whispered.

"It's okay. You called me his name a few times, anyway." I let go of her and got out of bed before I could take another look at her. My chest felt heavy and I felt like I was suffocating. I didn't know how much longer I could put up with this, with her. "I think you should leave."

Noel was too much for me.