Chapter Text
03:43 am.
He's still not there.
"I'll be back at 02:00 am."
He has only said, not even looking at you.
And you're now waiting there, sitting in front of the door, listening to the clock and watching the wooden gate.
You bite your lip, eyes filled by a glimmer of hope, but your anger goes worst. Since at least 2 or 3 weeks he's like this. Skiping diner, going out with "friends", coming back late and drunk.
You don't know what to do. You love him, but... He doesn't. You're sure about that. That fucking man, your fucking boyfriend, or future-ex boyfriend. You're always waiting, on the couch, on the floor, in the bed. He never comes.
Until you finally hear a "click" from the door. Your eyes shine like the polar star in the night, but then again, you see him.
Drunk.
His face full of red marks.
They look like lips.
Everywhere.
On his face, his neck ?
A sour taste come in your throat and your tongue, getting bitter and bitter. Your fists are tighten on your crossed legs, your hair is messy. You get up, facing him, this time with a blank face. Your breath is the only sound that can be heard in the house. Looking your man straight in the eyes, you say nothing... Even if you wanted to scream. He smiles slowly, red eyes full of lust and alcohol, and comes closer to you, but you step back.
"Oh babe... What is it ? Have i done something wrong ? Do you hate me ?"
He laughs slowly, his voice is darker than his skin. He puts his hands on your waist and leaves kisses in the crook of your neck, but you don't move. No smile, no moan, no whimper. Anything. You step back once again. You finally decide to speak, your voice showing anything more than disdain.
"Listen to me. First, you told me that you'd be back at 02:00 am. It's 03:45 am. Second thing, you're drunk as fuck. Third thing, you fucked some sluts as I can see... Maybe... Three ? No... Four ? Haha... How foolish I am !"
You laugh, under the gaze of the drunk man.
"It's not the first time, I know ! How many times did you came back at 3, 4 or even 5 ! Are you just kidding me ? I don't know. I think... One, two, three or maybe four times in a week ? How funny you are, Darling."
You pause, trying to take some breath in your dry lungs.
"Maybe I am not enough for Mister ? Even if we have sex like 6 or 7 times per week ? C'mon Darling, I know you're not a bad guy. Oh wait, what are these ? Red marks ? Oh ! Maybe lipstick ? From who ? Oooh, I don't know !"
You stop, smiling, laughing, screaming. He's still facing you, this time with a serious (or maybe shamed ?) Look. His lips part away, trying to say something intelligent, or sly ? The alcohol is driving him crazy, his thoughts are flowing away in an ocean of lust and sex. He gets on one knee, a hand on the floor, like an injured soldier, looking down. Little sounds come from his mouth, words ?
"...ry... uck... Up..." Yes. Little words.
You eyes don't leave his body, when you finally bow a little, trying to translate his sentence. His voice is inaudible, or at least not loud enough to be heard.
"Excuse me, I can't hear you through your drunk voice, boy."
"... Sorry... I... f...ed... Up..."
"You what ?"
"Damn it..." He gets up and pushes you against an unknown wall of the corridor. His arms are blocking you on either side of your head, letting any escape. Your gaze is in his, always blank. You raise an eyebrow, waiting for an asnwer, clear and sober. His lips are not that far from yours, and he knows it. His breath is tickling your nose and lips, it stinks. Well, not that much, you must admit it, he's really hot and handsome like this. Weak, but strong in the same time. Dominant, but bullied too. Like... An injured proud panther.
He takes you off of your thoughts, groaning slowly, asking for attention, sending you chills in your spine.
"Hey... I... I'm sorry... I know, I fucked up... Like... I really fucked up... I don't know why it's like that... I mean..."
You stop him suddenly, a finger on his lips. You smile slightly, letting your fingers slip through your man's hair, forehead, cheek, lips, and then on these red marks. A soft chuckle escapes your mouth, as you get off of his embrace. He's watching you, like a poor abandoned dog, but he's not crying. He will never. Finally, you get up on your tip toes and kiss him lovely.
He gently accepts it, letting his hands traveling all over you body, when you buck your hips onto his. He groans and grabs your ass, but you don't make a sound. Your fingers are now in his pants, jerking him off. He getting too much aroused, he's on the edge of the ultimate pleasure...
Then you stop.
You pull out your soaked hands of his shaft, wipe them on the young man's suit, leaving a thin and transparent mark on it. You look at him in the eyes, and sigh slowly.
"Sorry, Darling..." You say, keeping that grin on your face. You go in the kitchen, and come back in the hallway with a quite big valise, and then open the wooden door.
Suddenly, your grin disappears from your face, not showing any emotion. Cold words escape your lips, like it was nothing to support, for finally getting out of the house, in the freezing winter.
"... But you should have said that sooner."
Fucking Shitty Christmas of Shit.