I can't say for certain what took place last night. I only remember up until the strip show, and the rest is a solid sheet of darkness during which anything could have happened. I wonder where the crazy bitch I turned to when drunk disappeared to when I was sober? I tried to open my eyes, and the harsh light streaming through the window had me retreating into the covers. From the little I saw, it was clear I was not in my apartment and that bed was most definitely not mine.
I applied pressure to my throbbing temple in a futile attempt to ease the pain. The pressure only made it worse. My temple felt sore, as if I had put my head out of a moving car and banged every post until I got home. She always did this, this bitch I have never met. Why she insisted on causing me pain every time she took over is beyond me. I think it's personal; being drunk sounds like a flimsy excuse for the battery my body went through whenever I blacked out. That being said, I prefer "total blackout' over 'I got so high, but I remember everything' that bitch is a savage with a death wish. The ignoring of good advice, the bad decisions despite knowing better, and the complete and total lack of common sense. I can't stand her because I can't pretend she's somebody else.
A warm hand suddenly appeared from the darkness under the covers. I would have screamed, but my throbbing head and sore throat stopped any attempt. The hand wrapped itself around me, followed by a leg that tangled with mine. It was then that I noticed my lack of clothes. Miss Blackout must have been feeling horny. Now I had to deal with a guy I did not remember. Fucking hell!...he had a hard-on that was digging into my sides. Fuck he was huge! I was pretty sure it would hurt when I moved. I made another brave attempt at peeking outside the covers. The harsh light still stung, and it intensified the throbbing, but if I was going to die from a hangover, I'd rather die at my house.
When my eyes finally adjusted to the light. The somewhat familiar room threw me. I thought I had somehow made it to a random hotel, but I had been in this room before, or at the very least seen the furniture before. It took me a couple more seconds before the truck of comprehension hit me in the gut. I had not just spent the night with some random stranger. I had spent it with the one person I had sworn to never lay eyes on, let alone speak to again. How the fuck did I end up here? I didn't even have his number saved on my phone, so how did the seemingly impossible occur?
He chose that moment to turn, dragging away the covers from his body, revealing his objectively gorgeous face. I value being objective above all else. Being objective is the only reason I haven't burned down my apartment or stepped in front of a speeding bus. Kevin is as handsome as he is toxic. The last time we saw each other was when I pushed him off a cliff just as he finished tying his bungee cord. He was shaken but alive, and I did not wait for him to get back from the bottom of that cliff. That was four years ago.
So why was he here? After all this time. He was dead to me, and that was how it was going to remain. Whatever happened between him and Miss Total blackout stayed between them. If I couldn't remember it, then it didn't happen, or so I told myself as I carefully picked up my clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around the room. Thankfully, he didn't stir, and I made it out without disturbing him. Almost.
KEVINS P.O.V.
I felt her get out of bed. Sensed her stumbling across the room in a silent but frantic effort to find her clothes. Nothing good would come of this, nothing good could. After her silent struggle, she picked up all her beloved things and tiptoed out of the room naked. I was going to let her go forget any of this ever happened, but as she closed the door, I found myself running after her. How could I let the only woman I've ever loved walk out of my life, again?
She is the kind of girl your mother warned you about. Insanely hot but bat shit crazy. The most loving psychopath you will ever come across. Loving her was an obsession I had. I needed her to be in my life, but every second felt like walking through hell, yet therein lay the appeal. One time, she called off our relationship as she normally did; this time, she was crying. She said she couldn't do it anymore, that I had driven her over the edge. 'Please leave me alone,' she had said, 'I just want to be left alone, how is that so hard to understand?'. I understood what she meant, really I did, but I still knelt down and gathered her in my arms, holding her captive yet, hoping it offered her comfort. How could I let my lifeline go? She saved me. Why would she leave me?
That day is forever etched into my mind. Her cold eyes were devoid of any motion, her tightly balled fist telling more than any words ever could. The weather had been perfect that day, bloody sunny with a cool breeze, and not a cloud marred the blue fucking sky. She had let me hold her, convincing me of a false victory. 'Let's go bungee jumping,' she said, 'it will make me feel better.' I was only happy she had stopped crying, and I didn't think too much of it until I was grasping at thin air after she pushed me off the cliff. She had a little bit of makeup on, and her hair was up in a braided ponytail. I remember looking over every inch of her body, trying to commit it to memory as I rapidly fell. I know why she did it, her twisted logic and warped sense of justice.
This is basically how we met at a bungee jumping point just like this one. It was not my finest moment, but that particular day, I felt like I had finally hit my limit. She had been there when I was ready to end it all. Flew at me like a vengeful angel as she wrapped herself around me just as the safety harness came apart. This was her way of burning bridges. I ran back looking for her, but she was gone. She had taken the car and abandoned me. I had a crazy thought then, chase her down, tie her to my bed, so she never leaves. I considered it seriously before begrudgingly calling an Uber to my house. We were supposed to go bungee jumping together. I ended up at the bottom of the cliff alone. Even then, the realization that I was falling deeper in love with her in that moment had my heart breaking and my eyes pricking with unshed tears. I had watched her walk away from me. Each step broke a tiny piece of my heart until she was out of my view, and then I broke down. She never looked back, not even for a second, looked back. I had seen that look before. The look of utter resolve that could not and would not be shaken.
Three mundane years that did nothing to revive my cold heart had long since passed. I had been in more than a few relationships in that time in a desperate attempt at replacing what I had lost. In the first month after our breakup, she had occupied every single one of my thoughts. After a year, her memories began to fade, and after three, she only popped up in my head when I was utterly miserable. It could have been because she was there at the lowest and held my hand as I rebuild myself piece by piece. Maybe it was the fact that nothing had hurt me more than her leaving me. I often wondered what made her decide to finally leave, and I ended up with two alternatives. Either I was too big a burden, or I wasn't enough of a bother. Maybe the only reason she stayed was because I was in need of urgent emotional care. She loved dying things; they held more appeal to her.
I never pick up unknown numbers, and if I hadn't been distracted by the game, I would have noticed the unknown caller ID. However, as most of these stories go, I was distracted, but as soon as I heard her "hello?" I knew who it was. I never deleted her number; maybe she knew I couldn't and got herself a new one. I may have called her a few hundred times and gotten no reply, so I had assumed she had blocked me. I stared at my phone in disbelief, too scared to put it back to my ears. It had been three years; why would she call me now? Jennie, my girlfriend, came in with her bag slung over her shoulders. She was going to spend the weekend at her parents' house and had barely managed to book this late-night flight.
I saw the call disconnect just before Jennie spoke. A hurried kiss goodbye, and she was out the door. Leaving me still mostly confused and desperately hopeful when the phone rang again. I picked it up on the third ring, and just like before, her voice filtered in, shredding my heart as our memories flashed through my mind. One hello from her, and the scabs that I had accumulated as I healed from our relationship fell away, and I began bleeding once again.
" I know it's been long, but I passed by Biscos and I thought of you. I know I don't deserve it, but could you at least say hi, so I don't feel like I am talking to a wall." Her words cut through my walls, and it was all I could do not to cry. I wanted to say hello, ask her how she had been, but the overwhelming emotions I was experiencing made me doubt myself. What if instead of hello, I begged her to come back to me? I was in a loving relationship, and Jennie had been nothing but angelic, and she deserved better.
" If you don't want to talk I ge..brit, sorry ger.. tit no get get get it, I get it." She was drunk. Of course, she was. Why else would she be calling me? I was on the verge of hanging up when she called out my name in that husky voice of hers that drove me absolutely mad.
"Kevin, drop a pin and I'll come to you. You don't have to say a word to me, I'll just look at you and leave. I know how that sounds, but...." she trailed off, sounding either distracted or drunk or maybe both. I dropped her a pin of my location. Against my better judgment, knowing fully well nothing good could come of this, I gave her a way to come to me.
She was at my door within an hour. Her bloodshot eyes were framed with long fake lashes with lids coloured with immaculately blended eyeshadow. Her dark red lips were slightly parted as she tried to catch her breath. Her braids had to have been recently done, considering how good they looked crowning her head. She wore a tiny black dress that complemented her figure, which was somehow curvier even though she had obviously lost weight. I didn't think it was possible for her to get more attractive, and yet here she was robbing me of my breath once again.
She looked at me expectantly, crossing her arms and leaning on the door frame. My heart switched into overdrive as her scent snaked its way into my nostrils. She mostly smelled like a brewery, but underneath the choking alcohol smell rose an enticingly alluring scent that was uniquely hers that almost had my tongue out. She patiently waited, refusing to come in when I gestured for her. She swayed a little but held her ground.
"Hello, you. Long time no see." She raised her eyebrows at me but chose to say nothing, her eyes still holding mine. I knew what she wanted to hear; time had passed, but she remained the same. That thought caused a pang to pierce my barely intact heart. I inhaled shallowly, afraid to breathe any more of her in me. I ought to send her home; I will be the only one hurting after this. She looked totally wasted and would probably not remember anything come morning.
"I've missed you," I said, choking on the words just like I knew I would. It was the truth behind those words that made it difficult to utter them. It was what she wanted to hear, not the words but the emotion behind those words. Her mouth morphed into a dazzling smile that had me relearning how to breathe as I all but drowned in it. She took a step forward, bringing herself into my personal space, crushing every single wall I had built against her until nothing, not even dust, remained to remind me of why I had to stay away from her.
Our faces were so close I could feel her breath fan my face and smell the alcohol she had overindulged in. We stood like that for almost a full minute, neither one of us willing to make a move. That was until she moaned. This tiny, frustrated sound had my dick throbbing and my lips crashing into hers. She did not hesitate to reciprocate. We made it to the bed, and she proceeded to show me just how good we used to be together.