~THE MANIPULATOR~
For the next three nights, my shadow stood outside my window. Watching me, a red cherry blaring in the night as he puffed on a cigarette. What I wanted to tell him is how f*****g disgusting it is that he smokes.
But the heat between my thighs likes the way he looks. I think my asshole of a v****a might've even been jealous of the cigarette.
Apparently, it has a thing for inanimate objects. And that reminder royally pissed me off. Enough to storm into the kitchen and pour myself an entire cup of wine. Wine cures everything for a little while.
Anger.
Trauma.
But now, with a glass of wine absent, rage causes my hands to tremble with the reminder of how he left me on the floor, tossing a rose on me like discarded trash and then leaving. I had never felt more debased as
