[[Because you can't just leave it like that, now, can you? :P]
He’d left her almost as soon as she’d woken up, slipping his arms away from her, getting off the bed to find his clothes. She wasn’t sure whether to treat this with a mild disappointment, or moderate relief, that he wouldn’t try to do it again in the morning. Admittedly, the feel of his warm, tender arms around her, like she was six years old again, having a cuddle with a soft toy, albeit one that could fully squeeze her back, the possibility, judging from his bloodshot eyes and the rapidity he’d left the bed, that he’d stayed awake, watching over her... it was possibly the only good thing about last night.
His arms slipped through the sleeves of his shirt, back facing her, not wanting to look at her, to let her see the guilt he wore on his face. God... Why’d you do that? Why’d you forget she was a fucking virgin? Why’d you screw her anyway, if all it got you is her hate for you, for making her lose something she obviously thought was special... in some way...
“I-” he began, wanting to turn to let her see how serious he was about his apologies, those whispered apologies of last night, but cut off the rest of the sentence, the “-’m sorry,” he’d planned. Instead, he kept his gaze down as he turned to face her, sliding the buttons into their slits.
“I’m sorry, and I know you don’t want to hear this, but...” He broke off again into a whisper of the words he’d been hoping to say, words he’d been hoping would make things right, words that should have been more than simple enough to just thrust out of his mouth.
“But what?” Heartless bastard... won’t even look at you... Screwed you, fucked you, used you... won’t even look at what he’s fucking broken... took it away from you... God... “But you no longer want to see me anymore? That’s fine. Perfectly fine. Great to know I’m nothing but a cheap fuck for you.”
“Angel-”
“No! Don’t you fucking dare to call me that anymore! Don’t even use my name, if I’m just some whore you don’t have to pay for!”
“Will you listen to me for FIVE seconds-”
“I. Want. You. Out. Of. My. House. Hear that? Just... go. I’ll let you put your fucking pants on first. After that... we don’t talk. Alright?”
She could hear him swear repeatedly under his breath as he put his legs into the slacks he’d so nonchalantly thrown aside the night before. Other than that, the only sound was her harsh breathing, as her words caught up with her, as she realized she’d just told someone to get out of her life, someone who could have easily beat her into unconsciousness if he wanted to. The fact that he was merely getting ready to leave, slipping on a jacket as he stormed out of her apartment, almost made her want to throw a lamp, anything around her, at him, ask him why he was taking this so well. Maybe you were just a cheap fuck for him.
The slam of the door rang in the air with her fresh tears, her gasps for breath as she sank back into her pillows, back into wishing it were only an hour ago, back into the memory of his arms. Before she could close her eyes, the final glimpse of the calendar on the wall next to the bed threw any pretense of restless, unhappy sleep out of the window, as she recalled the red circle, the red scrawl of ‘Meet Up W. Mark’, on that day... There was no time for instant regret. There was only time to slip on and clip up her underwear, not even matching like she would have if she could, pulling on a top, zipping up the first skirt she laid her hands on, abandoning cosmetics in favor of rushing out the door, only just remembering to lock it behind her. She looked a mess, and she knew it; then again... with him... would it matter between siblings?
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