Page 87 of Painting Her Fate

“Anytime Corporal.” I hear him laugh at something a female in the background said before we hung up.

I dump the rest of my coffee in the sink and set the mug on the counter.You should leave, leave right now and mind your own damned business. She has too much shit for you to add onto your pile. You should go back to your place and forget her, forget everything you have done with her, and focus on the bar.

I can’t. I need her touch, her scent, her taste, her warmth, her siren; I can’t get enough of her. She makes me feel something other than pain.

I’m alive again.

Spotting her notebook on the counter, I thought I’d jot down a few things of my own; words I’ve had swirling in my head that need out.

Sensations of Passion- by Alexander

Your song is my song

Pain a constant companion

Our bodies entwine

Lasting memories

I take your struggles in stride

You take mine with pride

I want to hold you

Bottle your pacific touch

Love you for all days

Am I way over my head about all this?

Sighing, I release the tight grip I had on the counter, then rake a hand through my hair and let out a yawn. Entering the darkened room, I slide into the cool bed, finding her in the same position I left her. Wanting to feel her warmth, I wrap myself into her once more and set a kiss to her hair then close my eyes and try to calm my racing thoughts.

One thing is clear: this week is going to be a long one.

_CHAPTER 15 - LILI_

"If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself."

–George Orwell, 1984

I came awake, heavily groggy, and misplaced. I can’t think straight after taking that high of a dose and will probably be out of it for a day or two.What time is it anyway?

I can vaguely remember Zander coming and telling me he had to leave. Something about a follow-up appointment, then he had things to do at the bar, but would text me later.

I didn’t want his questions about the medication, and anything he may have overheard or witnessed while I went through my nightmare. Maybe that is why I took a full dose; to ignore him. To not want to look at the disgust etched deep within the worry.

Whatever the reason, I can’t let it happen again. He and I cannot do this, whatever this is. My past is always going to hinder any relationship I have, leaving one or both of us broken in the end. I cannot risk that for Alexander, he deserves better, better than an anxiety riddled, emotionally disconnected artist with nightmares and flaws of the physical and psychological.

Sitting up slowly, I turn to the end table to find a glass of water and a hand-written note next to it.

“Drink me.” In bold letters on the front. I hold the water and the note in my hands, taking a decent sip before unfolding the note.

*Intrigued* Another poem? I cannot help my smile now, my words caught on the last line,love you for all days. He knows how to squeeze my heart just right.He wrote these words just for me. The dark clouds seem to part.Is this his way of claiming his love for me?It’s too soon for that word. Way too soon.

Thinking of Tamara’s motherly words, she would tell me to get my ass up, get dressed, and not allow my monster to control my life any further.

So, that is what I do; I find a gray jumper matching the storm clouds outside and a pair of black leggings. I set my hair in a single braid down my back and try to get my puffy eyes under control.

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