Falling Into Him.
1287 Words
My body froze, every nerve ending screaming in disbelief.
“Everyone f*****g knows.” He scoffs. “Do you think you are the only one who sees what he does?”
My stomach flipped.
“I don't think so. Right, Luna?”
Right. Pierce is correct. I’m not the only one who sees what he does.
Seems like this cocktail is getting to my head. It’s probably best if I keep quiet. I shouldn’t really be saying these things in front of his elder brother. What am I even saying?
This is Pierce, of all people. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I feeling ashamed just because he admitted the truth? I’m not the only one who knows.
So why does that hit me harder than the truth itself?
“I don't mean to make you feel embarrassed—”
“No, I'm not embarrassed.” I cut in. “It's fine. You spoke the truth. And thanks for telling me.”
This was not his problem. It was mine. I often ask the reason I'm still in this marriage?
I guess it's time to get a divorce. I can't keep getting shamed from left and right. My throat was sore, and I struggled to hold back my tears from him. When will this pain end? This is torment, not a life.
“I'm sorry for talking about your brother like—”
“Lucy's death anniversary is on the day of my birthday.”
I froze.
“And she's my niece. I guess that's why I feel connected to her.”
He caught my gaze and smiled softly, leaning just a little closer so I could smell his faint cologne. My fingers twitched on the bar, wishing I could reach out, but I froze.
“This party is so f*****g boring.” He murmured.
I looked at him once more.
“What! Is there something on my face?!”
“No, there isn't. I'm just wondering if you are kind of, you know, drunk.” I breathed, trying to distract myself from crying.
My breath increases.
“You think I'm drunk?!”
I felt my tears spill. “I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
That's why he always remembered. Lucy died on his birthday, and I never knew about this.
“I'm truly sorry.” I said again. “No wonder you always remembered.” I burst into tears. “I'm so sorry.”
“I'm a little high now.” He nodded. “You are right.” He squeezed his cigarette into the ashtray. “You don't have to cry, Luna.”
“I've gotten into a mess. My marriage is a disaster,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “Every day feels like I’m drowning.”
Pierce's eyes narrowed, the smoke from his cigarette still lingering between us. “You think crying fixes anything? You think sorry makes the world any softer?” His tone got sharp.
I wiped my face, though the tears kept coming. “No. I know it fixes nothing.”
He studied me, silent for a long moment, his second glass untouched in front of him. Then, softer, he said, “Luna, you carry too much on your own. You always have.”
“I just… I want someone to notice me. To feel like I matter, even for a second,” I admitted, my tears spilling freely. “To feel alive. To feel like a woman again.”
“Then tell me,” I whispered, trembling. “What am I supposed to do?”
For a moment, Pierce didn’t answer.
“Start by breathing. Just… breathe.”
I whispered, “Breathing doesn’t make the pain stop.”
Pierce smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “No. But it keeps you alive long enough to deal with it.”
That was the closest thing to comfort he had ever given me, and it was enough to make my tears fall harder.
I covered my face, ashamed of how broken I sounded. “I don’t know if I can keep going like this, Pierce. I feel like I’m coming apart.”
“Luna—”
“He is horrible. Jonathan is a bastard. I've gone through so much with this jerk. All he does is neglect me and sleep around. He doesn't even care. Taila wants me to leave him. But my family — how do I explain things to them? They will never understand.”
I could feel my head getting lighter.
“I just want to break everything. Cheat back on him so he knows how it feels. I wanna sleep around. Do whatever I like.” I laughed again. “I have blood going through my veins. I'm not a robot. I can't even remember the last time we made love. He doesn't care how I feel. Only himself and how to satisfy those bitches. That's the only thing he cares about.”
“How long have you guys not been intimate?!”
“Nearly a year.”
His hand rubbed the back of his neck, a subtle tension in his movements that made my heart race.
“I want revenge.” I slid off the stool and moved closer to him, my pulse hammering in my ears. The moment I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my forehead against his chest, I caught the subtle release of his pheromones.
He smelled intoxicating. Warm, earthy, and faintly sharp, like the calm before a storm.
“Please… help me,” I muttered, my voice barely audible.
All I had left inside me was emptiness, a hollow ache that craved someone’s attention, someone to see me as more than my pain. I wanted him to hold me, to whisper that I was lovely, to remind me I was still a woman.
Thoughts tumbled through my mind, chaotic and urgent, but Pierce stayed still.
“I'm tired, Pierce.”
I was close to my breaking point.
“I don't have anyone who listens to me without judging me.”
I cried loudly into Pierce’s chest, inhaling his scent. There was no one in the world who understood what I was feeling deep inside. Just once. I want someone to look at me and tell me I'm free to live by my decisions and not judge me.
I felt his hands slowly wrap around my back. His fingers moved to my upper butt and up to my back.
He held my nape and pulled my gaze to him. I saw his eyes. He caressed my eyes.
“You seem drunk.” He uttered.
“Am I?” I smiled sheepishly.
“Yeah.” His eyes wouldn't leave mine. Those gray eyes. They look like glass. Very transparent. The more I look at those eyes, the more I want to dive into them and never come out of them.
He was so handsome. He smells so good.
“Your pheromones are slipping away.” He smiled.
Oh, I didn't notice.
“I'm going back abroad.” He cut my attention. “Soon.” He added. “Do you accept that?”
“Accept what?” I whispered.
Pierce slightly smirked and slowly kissed my lips. My eyes opened wide. I relaxed, tasted how sweet his lips were and kissed him back. I grabbed his neck, deepening our kiss. We slide into each other's tongues greedily. Slurped through them and swallowed our saliva.
I wouldn't let go and kept kissing him. I held him tight. I felt starved. It's been so long. I've had this sweet feeling of warmth.
Pierce’s arm held my back and squeezed.
If kissing was a person, I would have swallowed Pierce.
- Writer
