12
747 Words
And then I put myself together. Because that's what I do.
I go into work, taking a deep breath. Unlocking my office, I turn the lights on.
"Hey," He whispers,
I suspected he'd be here.
I ignore him.
"Sorry I picked your lock. I know I taught you which locks were harder to pick."
Swallowing, I glance at him. "I don't need hard to pick locks, because no one picks Veri Erin's locks."
He smiles, shrugging. "I was thinking—"
"Uh-oh," I deadpan, looking through some papers "That's a dangerous pastime for you."
He bites his lip. "You left...you left a few things at the house. I was wondering if you wanted to come get them?"
"Nope," I murmur, "I didn't leave it. Remember," I look up, "You packed my bags."
He looks away. "Right. Anyway, they seem important. Some books, clothes. Your old phone actually."
"Why do you want me go back there," I ask exasperated. "What's your plan?"
He eyed me. "I thought maybe if I got you home, I could explain. You would be more..."
"Amendable to your bullshit because of some memories." I finish with a snort. "Those memories were fake. It's not like you actually loved me."
He stands abruptly, his presence shrinking my office.
"I loved you. I still do. The things we shared, those memories—they're real."
I nod. "What is your purpose, Scar." His name feels odd on my tongue. "What do you want from me?"
"I told you," he says. "I want you to come back home. I want to make up for the things I did."
I snort, finally looking directly at him. "Do you feel guilty sometimes?" I asks. He shrinks back at the question slightly.
"Do you ever feel...I don't know lonely? Do you feel bad that I put you where you are, so high and mighty? Or do you feel just powerless because I'm right here, and you can't put your arms around me, because you burnt that bridge."
He sits back down, glancing at the wall. I shrug, looking down at the papers unseeing. "Who's doing your dirty work now?"
He sighs.
"Hey, Scar?" I whisper. He looks at me, squinting.
"How does it feel being King knowing I put you there?"
"Lonely," He whispers. His eyes setting on me. My skin heats under his intense multicolored gaze.
I snort, saying nothing.
"Damn it, Maureen," He lunches my file cabinet, denting it. "I see you everywhere. I hear your voice. I—I miss you. We were a team."
We were. And we were a good one, for a while. But it doesn't matter. Maureen is dead.
Veri Erin has nothing to do with this so called king.
But to be honest, I wouldn't mind it. Jumping with him again. I know he'd hurt me but...these days I can't tell if I'm sad, bored, or just numb.
The last time I felt was...
I smile. But I'm not that naive.
"Please leave," I inform him.
He stops me, taking my hand. "Are you even living like this? This isn't you Maureen. If I'm good for nothing else, I make you feel."
He's right. But right doesn't matter. Survival does.
"I want to be alone, Scar."
"Forever," he chuckles. "That's not you either. You're a work of art Maureen. You're a tragedy. And you need someone. It's only a matter of time before you take another hand," he offers his, so familiar now. "Might as well take one you know."
I stare at his hand blankly. "No. I think I'd rather experience a different heartbreak."
He freezes. Something like rage filled his eyes.
"You know me, Maureen. I know what works best to get what I want Don't I?"
That he does.
"But I'm warning you: if you let another man touch you, think he can touch you," he smirks, "You and I will get very physical."
Is that a threat?
"And what about you?" I shoot back. "Didn't you have a whole f*****g girlfriend?"
He looks away, mouth opening. I've never seen him so hesitant. "You're the only one for me. Ever."
I snort. "Yeah right—"
He stands with a small sigh. "You were my first, and I'm your last," he kisses my head, taking my hand. He fiddled with my fingers a second as my brain processes what he just said.
"I'll see you later, baby."
He lets go of my hand, letting it slip through his own, and leaving my office.
- Writer
