#perhaps one day i’ll draw the angels without their chests exposed as if they wished for them to be smothered with kisses

[iove-angels69]

💗💗💗 he’s sooooo

[notnctu]

heather | k.dy ❀

━ listen to: heather by conan gray

kim doyoung x reader ❀ genre - here’s the angst we didn’t ask for, fluff ❀ details - intentional lowercase, genderneutral!reader, drinking ❀ word count - 2.1k ❀ synopsis - if only he knew how much you liked him... but you watch his eyes as heather walks by and how he falls in love with her instead.

❀ a/n - hi hi it’s author doie❀! i use lyrics from the song so pls listen to the masterpiece that inspired this fic LMAO also thank you to everyone who follows us <3 we reached a big big milestone this time and i’m still speechless how far we’ve come as a blog. it almost feels surreal? that so many people actually enjoy our content... it’s unbelievable. thank you all again for your support and interactions ): idk how to even express the gratitude i have rn 

what a sight for sore eyes — kim doyoung with eyes that light up brighter than the blue skies. heather walks by and waves enthusiastically to the both of you. her smile is kind, gentle, sweet. and doyoung reflects nothing, except hearts that shape his pupils. he’s mesmerized and unrecognizable.

you stand there dying at the hopelessness in your crush’s gaze over a single person. the nervousness in his wave says enough for you to know pain in your own chest. a sadness that pulls directly at your heartstrings.

heather, she wears cute outfits worth seeing the day of light. heather, she has a big heart that’s too good for this world. heather, she’s such an angel. heather, the one doyoung is in love with.

you wish you were heather.

you love doyoung the very day he stayed up with you to help you study for your final last semester. yet, he doesn’t even acknowledge your new haircut or the different accessories that wrap around your fingers. doyoung isn’t the type to really take these little details in account, but with heather. it’s different.

he rambles on and on about how he loves her dainty earrings. or the way her hair is pulled nicely into a neat ponytail. or how she looks better in his sweater.

despite it all, you couldn’t hate her. she has done nothing to you. effortlessly, doyoung tripped and fell head over heels for her and that is all out of her control. so, you’d rather loathe in your own self doubt than to hate someone as pure as heather.

maybe you simply aren’t as pretty as heather. she’s a doll, so to compare yourself to her is really an opportunity to crush your self esteem. doyoung likes pretty things. but is it that hard to find beauty in you? 

if only he knew how much you loved him, would that change the way he views you? doyoung is not perfect either, but that’s why you love him. his imperfections make him perfect. a little tempered, but cares with everything he can give to someone. he’s the softest boy, but won’t hesitate to snap someone in the neck. 

doyoung is more than what he makes himself out to be. a complexity that is greater to the unknown, but worth exploring. he’s outspoken, with a yield to fragility if punctured. doyoung, you know him better than anyone else. 

“are we hanging out tonight?” waving a quick hand in front of his daze, he shakes his head to refocus. 

doyoung pouts at your question, a little apologetic. “i thought i told you i had a date with heather.”

her spoken name crushes your bones, along with any hope that doyoung could ever feel anything for you. and silly you! to have buried the memory of their first date so deeply in the back of your mind that you forgot. 

“right.” your answer is limp, but doyoung is too excited to really register the drop in your tone. and the tug at the corners of your lips, the dipping eye contact to the ground. you’re not even listening anymore, drowning out the giddiness of your friend talking about someone else.

but it’s always the same. he talks about heather unwarranted, like she’s the only thing on his mind when before her, his mind was full of wisdom and insightful snarky comments. 

“listen doie, i’ll catch up with you later.” you place a lingering hand on his shoulder, and confusion blinks back at you. he takes your hand, intertwining them and kisses your knuckles. it’s a friendly gesture. he probably does this with heather too. 

his gummy smile reminds you of the man you love. instantly, pain is washed away and momentarily lost. “don’t be a fool, y/n. i always walk you to class. today is no different. plus, i like your company.” 

you wonder if this is his poor attempt at still making you seem important to him, or if he truly enjoyed spending more time with you. regardless, you don’t deny the offer and he seems to drop the conversation about heather. 

“have you ever loved anyone?” you are going to regret asking him this question, without you knowing the consequential answer that will break you further. 

“such a sudden question....” he laughs nervously, his eyes widening. “i don’t know what that feels like, and i’m sure the movies are over dramatizing it.”

“do you feel that with heather?” what on earth are you doing? the light pink that dusts across his pale cheeks can’t hide his embarrassment to being asked. your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, as you slowly feel your hand slipping away from his.

“not entirely, yet.” the shattering of your heart can be the only thing heard at this very moment. the chatter from passing students, the rustling of leaves from the wind, doyoung’s voice all fade away. 

it suffocates you, like the one word grew hands to squeeze all the life out of you. “have you? are you hiding a special someone from me?” his quizzical eyes blink with a mischievous implication and a growing smile. 

“i’ve felt it before and you’re right. it’s nothing like the movies, it’s more painful.” you speak without any control over your own words. doyoung frowns, but not evidently enough for you to point it out. instead you drop his hand and rush to your lecture hall. waving a small goodbye and a sadness that exposes more of your intentions. 

nonetheless, your friend waves back with an embarrassing amount of energy. and an irredeemable facade of kindness that taunts at your selfish feelings.

“where’s doyoung?” johnny appears at your side with copious amounts of alcohol enough to wipe out the whole fraternity house. somehow you manage to lose sight of the people you came here with and end up sulking in the kitchen.

johnny is doyoung’s friend, but is friendly enough to acknowledge you whenever paths crossed. he opens a can of beer for himself after vultures snatch the new bottles he had brought in, but he doesn’t mind. he never does.

“on a date with heather.” grumbling, you let the remainder of the drink tip you over your limit. you’re buzzed enough, you could cry. and are you really going to forfeit the first person in college to see you cry be johnny suh? you just might.

“ah, the new chick he’s been talking about?” he mindlessly sips at his drink, while also greeting every person that flirtatiously beckons his way. but what you needed is for him to notice the suffering that love has mercilessly sprouted upon you. because your pride would never let you speak what’s bothering you.

 johnny turns around to your silently crying figure and automatically draws you into a warm hug. his shirt soaks up your tears, and in a way, he’s wiping them away. “don’t tell me you like kim doyoung.”

he whispers loud enough for only you to hear and it does nothing to help the waterfalls that wet the fabric, “no. i’m in love with kim doyoung.” 

now that is a proclamation that can be heard throughout the loud thumping party music that rumbles the house. and the single voice that has you regretting seeking comfort and vulnerability in the middle of a densely populated frat party.

“you are?” when you pull away to face the one person you did not expect to see here tonight, he shows an array of shock that you soon mirror as your eyes trail down. you see his hand nicely intertwined with heather’s, and her by his side with an equal amount of confusion. but they look promising, while your friendship with him does not anymore.

“what are you doing here?” is all you can find to say. johnny runs a hand through his locks, clearly flustered at the sight of such a tense awkwardness. 

“i came to pick you up.” a small speechless airy voice, he’s in disbelief. 

“doyoung, i’ll excuse myself.” heather proceeds to walk towards the door. you hold your breath to see his next move, but he stands there like an unmovable tower. 

is it pain in his eyes? you can’t tell what he’s feeling, but you had to do this for him. he’s your friend with feelings of his own that sadly does not include you, but must be honored and respected. so you run after heather for him, leaving doyoung to find time to process what had just happened.

“heather, please wait.” you sound breathless, chasing after the girl who holds your crush’s heart. she’s out on the pavement as you abruptly stop on the lawn, the night air feeling extremely cold against your hot skin.

she smiles at you, when you feel the alcohol running up your throat. your drunken self falls as she catches you in her arms. “y/n, it’s okay. you didn’t need to come after me.”

“you can’t leave him. please, he loves you.” heather’s hands caress your cheek softly and her round glossy eyes bore through your skin. 

“no. he doesn’t love me.” she points back to the house and you turn to see doyoung rushing out the door, taking deep breaths on the porch and staring directly at you, staring at you with a determination that has you running towards him as well.

and you melt into his long arms. his hand on the back of your head, pressing you into his rising chest. he’s absolutely breathless, why is he breathless? the kitchen is a short run from the front door, so why is he breathing as if he experienced the biggest panic in his life? 

perhaps, it’s fear of losing you. that his reaction scared you off and the risk of you leaving him. you can’t leave him, please. he loves you. 

doyoung does the unimaginable, something that you can only dream about, wish upon a star that it could come true. he lifts your chin and the streetlamps paint him a fluorescent warm tone orange. he kisses you with gentle lips and kind glides against your own.

in this very moment, you’re free falling. doyoung’s hand is reaching out for you, but it’s all too fast. the only thing that catches you is a gust of wind as it carries you to a safe landing. your heart beats like it’s never done so before, with love and confusion.

so, you push at his chest slightly aggressive as you scream with unknowing tears dripping down your cheeks again. “why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty.” 

doyoung grips your wrists and opens his mouth to say something. anything. his eyes are frantically searching for a way to tell you what you truly mean to him. “because i--” he sighs, “i like you. i’ve always liked you.” 

everything comes to a halt, like a pause in the universe. never once has doyoung ever admitted those feelings about anyone, even heather. of course, you can tell through his reactions and constant chatter how he felt, but he’s never once said it aloud.

so were you too blinded by your own grief to realize that doyoung looked at you the same way he did to heather? that he talks about you endlessly to other people who are willing to listen? that he compliments subtle things about you, even if they aren’t things you purposefully changed? 

“what about heather?” you sniff, wiping your wet eyes.

“i thought i should learn to move on from someone who wasn’t going to look at me the same way i did them.” he brushes your cheek with his knuckles, planting the sweetest, most comforting kisses on your forehead.

your heart feels full. it feels put together. “i’ve liked you since you helped me with finals..” 

“...and i’ve liked you since the moment i laid eyes on you. then we grew closer, and today, i lied about never being in love. because with you, i feel it.” he smiles and it’s as if every bad thing to exist is resolved. doyoung grows a bit shy at his confession as his gaze drops to the floor.

“why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“why didn’t you just tell me?” doyoung turns the question back on you so matter of fact, yet still chuckling jokingly. “i’m sorry, i should have mustered up the courage to tell you a long time ago, i’m not the best with feelings... but i hope it’s not too late... that we aren’t too late to establish something?”

he draws you into a tight hug, your head rests on his broad shoulder. the scent of his cologne tickles your nose, and you’re incredibly happy. what a sight for sore eyes — the happiness that reaches to the stars, brighter than the night skies. 

you wish you were—

[marythegizka]

One now and one to save

Christine drew a sharp breath, holding her lantern high as she reached the last step to the fifth cellar. The note had been quite brief – no time, no place, no name, only that spidery, almost childish handwriting that left no possible doubt as to the identity of the sender: “I should be honored if you would join me for coffee”.

Perhaps she was mad. She had to be. Perhaps the sane thing to do was run and disappear, forget about his very existence. Oh, but she couldn’t do that. How was she to forget the sheer terror that had struck her, the repugnance she’d felt when she had unmasked him? How was she to forget his roars, his delirious distress, the tears that had rolled down his almost hollow cheeks? How was she to forget his care, how was she to forget his voice, those deep, mellifluous tones, wrapping themselves around her like a warm velvet shawl? It was a true wonder, an unthinkable one, that the most enchanting voice in the world could belong to this poor skeleton of a man, this creature of darkness who feared the eyes of men. For this was what he was. Not the Angel she had prayed for, nor the specter they had all feared… simply Erik. Poor, unhappy Erik. Her chest heaved at the thought, but despite his deception, despite the horror of his face, she couldn’t find it in her to hate him.

The sound of dripping water drew her out of her thoughts. Christine’s steps had led her to the banks of the underground lake, and her eyes soon landed on the tall, spindly figure that paced the shore like a lost soul.

Erik froze on the spot and gaped like a dead fish, his heart hammering against his ribs.

“You came!” he managed. Christine gave a faint smile. He blinked. Once. Twice. It was no dream! Oh, if Angels existed, he was looking at one! How he wished he could hold her, without making her flinch, without turning that smile into a grimace of disgust. But that wouldn’t happen, and the mere fact that she had come was a small miracle in its own right.

Erik had no idea how long he’d stood gawking at her, though the unease in her voice made it clear it had been too long.

“Erik? Are you all right?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, quite all right.” He gestured towards the boat. “Shall we?”

She nodded. They reached the house quickly, for Erik rowed with enthusiasm. She had come here, to meet with him, and that thought alone gave him wings. He extended a hand to help her off the boat, expecting her to refuse, and was shocked and delighted to feel her small hand land in his, light as a feather even as he pulled her up. Her hand, holding his! He led her to the drawing room, where a biscuit tin, two mismatched cups and a coffee pot had been set on the dinner table, and drew one of the chairs from under the table.

“Mademoiselle Daaé… please make yourself at home.”

“Thank you Erik. This is lovely of you.”

This time it was he who caught himself smiling. If she liked it she would visit again, wouldn’t she? Giddy with hope, Erik didn’t realize he was staring again. Oh, but Christine noticed. Again.

“Erik? Is something wrong?”

“No, I…”

I would kill for a smile of yours, your presence here soothes me and drives me mad all at once, and I would sell my soul if I had one, if there was but a chance that it would make you love me.

“You’re beautiful today.”

Erik instantly cursed himself. ‘Today?!’ He was an idiot, an absolute idiot. Thankfully, Christine didn’t seem to take offense, and simply eyed him with amusement as he resisted the urge to shrink back in his chair.

“Am I?”

She gestured at her dress, as if that were the explanation.

“It’s an old birthday present from Mamma Valerius.”

Erik nodded in understanding.

“Ah yes, I too got one once.”

Christine gave him a questioning look.

“A birthday gift,” he clarified, reaching for the nearby bookshelf.

“There,” he said, pulling a book from the shelf. It was an antique edition of Le Ventriloque ou l’Engastrimythe, and Erik was quite sure poor Mademoiselle Perrault had found it in Rouen, for as far as he knew there were no booksellers in the village.

“Just one? Just once?”

“Well, I did ask for a second but my mother…” An image flashed through his mind, and for a brief second he was back in Saint-Martin-de-Boscherville, his hideous reflection flinging itself at him through the upstairs mirror. “It was more than she could manage.”

“What was it?”

Erik swallowed, staring at the floor.

“Two kisses. One then, and one to save.”

Her hand clutched at her chest.

“Erik …”

“It’s all right.” It was not. He handed her the biscuit tin and started pouring coffee. “Would you like some sugar with it?”

“Yes, thank you.” She grabbed a biscuit from the box and began stirring her drink. “So, tell me more about that book.”

Erik gave her a wry smile, taking care not to move his lips as he spoke.

“My dear, I’m afraid there isn’t more to it than the title entails.”

Christine almost spat her coffee. Oh, of course there was more. It was his only birthday gift, the only reminder that someone had once seen fit to celebrate his birth. But an open expression of self-pity would assuredly ruin that lovely afternoon.

“I didn’t know you could do that!” she exclaimed. “Have you ever thought of performing?”

Erik recalled his days of traveling with fairs, each detail as vivid as if it were still the day after. The clamor of the crowd. The coins raining down for him. That dreadful moment in which he would take off the mask. The humiliation of being exposed. Men and women paling. That time he’d washed vomit from the floor of his tent. No. He would not perform again. There was no need for that now. Not with the directors graciously handing him his salary on a silver platter.

“I’d rather not,” he said bitterly.

Christine bit her lip and hung her head. Well, he certainly had a talent for ruining the mood.

“Oh, did I upset you? Don’t be upset. There is nothing to be upset about.” He paused for a moment, and headed for the piano. “There, I’ll play for you. Do you like Chopin? Verdi? Yes? Would you like me to play?”

Christine nodded.

For an hour he played. Christine sang. He was happy. But all good things must come to an end.

“This was beautiful, Erik. But I have to leave. We will be rehearsing soon, and Carlotta has the flu.”

“Does she now?”

Erik smirked, still bent over the keyboard. It would seem the lead ‘soprano’ had received his letter.

“Before I go…”

Light steps echoed behind him. Erik stiffened as a hand landed onto his back, and he turned around to see Christine standing mere inches from him. Surely this was some trick of his desperate mind, her hands were so gentle, her perfect face so close, it couldn’t be real. His eyes suddenly shut tight; if he was dreaming he did not want to wake up. Before he knew it warm lips brushed against his, softly, gently, in a brief, shy caress. How? Despite his firmly shut eyelids, a single tear rolled down his cheek. Her hand dropped off his masked face, but the warmth of her breath remained as she whispered in his ear:

“One now, and one to save.”

[roselin010116]

Heaven Sent

Eve. She is so beautiful. The way her eyes sparkle like the stars at midnight. Her lips the color of a rose in bloom.

How is it possible someone so pure, so gentle can be in this world?

Her sweetness is magical, her voice is like the sound of angels singing. 

People come up to her and speak with her, she listens and speaks back, I am transfixed watching her lips form words. 

Does she see me? Does she know that I even exist?

No, she doesn't know I’m here, she doesn't know who I am, she may never know.

That’s okay, I know that I can keep myself in her beautiful light and be pleased with the fact that it will shine down on me and fill me with love and warmth.

I’ll take all that light and hold it inside me until I see her again, just looking at her fills me up, I think I’m in love.

She looks just like an angel when the soft light of the day shines down on her. Her skin brightens, the honey blonde shinning in that soft glow.

The smallest of smiles and it can send my heart to the heavens, I can feel my spirit take flight. I gaze at her beauty, and wish or dream that she could be mine.

But that is selfish, I cannot keep her all to myself. She must be able to be with others. I could not do that to such a perfect gift. I could not keep it away.

I should speak to her, let her know that I am here and let her know how angelic and beautiful and peaceful I think she is.

I don’t want to scare her by these words, however I cannot think of a better way to describe this fantastic being. 

I’ve decided, I will do this. I will let her know that I appreciate her beauty, her smile, the light in her eyes. Tell her how she makes me feel, how my whole body feels so light.

My heart feels like it could burst with all this love that I have inside me. I want to give her a gift, something so pure and real, not something to draw her into me, not something purchased in a store.

I make my decision. I’m going to walk up and introduce myself to her, tell her how I feel and present her with my gift. The time has come when she is finally sitting alone, I make my way over.

I hear the birds in the trees sing, I hear my breath shudder in my chest, my heart beating so fast I fear it may stop working. I’m so much closer to her then I have ever been before, I could almost reach out and touch her.

I smell strawberries and vanilla I never realized this is her sent. So peaceful and soft. I’m about to stop breathing, being this close to someone so beautiful and pure, I feel a warmth wash over me.

She looks up at me, our eyes meet for the very first time. I stand in front of her with my mouth hanging open at the sight of her. She smiles at me and my heart stopped beating.

A tear spills from my eye, slowly rolling down my check to the corner of my mouth. I can see my world in her eyes, I can see light, love and peace.

I believed that I have just died and gone to heaven. No..it’s her, she is talking to me asking me what’s wrong and if she can help. I find myself sinking to the ground in front of her, full on crying now, I cannot control all these emotions.

I try to speak but every word comes out mixed up or backwards and not even sounding like words at all. She takes hold of my hands, ever so gently, she tells me that everything is going to be alright that I can talk to her.

 I want to so bad that it hurts my heart, but the words are not coming out of my mouth. Then she started telling me a story of how she had seen someone days ago and could feel this persons heart beating.

She knew there would come a day when this person would be like everyone else and try to talk to her. But over time she felt shyness and fright and sorrow, but yet there was also love radiating from this soul.

Oh how she wished they would come and sit with her, how she wished they could look into each other eyes and share everything. She admitted that today, she felt this special meeting would take place.

I felt her fingers under my chin and guide my head up so our eyes could meet. She was able to look so deep into my soul and heart, I was afraid she could sense my deepest secret.

Do not be afraid she told me. I hear what you are feeling and what your heart is saying to me. I lowered my head again, my chin resting on my chest. I feel ashamed that she can sense these thoughts and feeling that I am having.

I feel that my body has betrayed me at that moment, letting someone see these feelings and thoughts. I wanted more that anything to be able to tell her what I am feeling towards her, to watch the reaction on her face when I confessed them to her.

I know, she said, I know everything and I thank you. I now know what it feels like to have someone treasure me for, well me. We have never spoken and still it feels like I know everything there is to know about you. 

I can feel you, feel the light and love that you have in your heart. I can feel how passionate you are and how much love you have to give. I feel it pulsing out from your heart, but I also feel how scared you are to express that love.

You do not have to be scared with me, never. Tell me what is on your mind, what you are feeling, when you are scared I will be here to hold you and help you to feel better. I will not judge you for anything.

I look up at her and openly start crying. I tell her that no one has ever spoken to me in such a way. That she has made me feel good about myself for the first time in a while. I confessed that I am always down on myself and for once I feel it’s alright to be me.

I tell her this time with my words what I feel towards her. I see the smile on her face as she listens to me. I see no judgement in her eyes, I only see the sheer beauty that she has already shown me.

I turn my head away as another tear escapes my eyes. To my surprise I feel her hand touch my check and wipe it away. I have never felt a touch so soft, like a whisper. 

Do not be ashamed of what your heart feels, she said. You cannot control what it wants, how it feels, who it loves. You must be at peace with all these things. I have been waiting for you, she said. I have felt you here, but have also felt the hesitation you've been having about coming to me.  You never have to feel that again.

I am here for you, as you for me, she said. I will never turn you away or leave you alone. Souls and hearts like ours need to be together, there is no better pairing then us. My heart is filled to capacity at this statement from her. 

I tell her that kind words such as these have never been said to me. She told me that I had been waiting for her this whole time because it was she that was to say them to me. It was she that was the one person to understand my heart and soul and realize these feelings.

I cherish you, I heard myself saying to her. I want to share everything with you and never be without you. I have a gift for you that could never be bought in a store. It is something that I thought would express what I am and what I feel towards you.

She held out her hands, breathlessly waiting for me to present her with it. I took a step back, lowered myself to the ground and held my arms out wide. I looked into her eyes and said to her.

Here I am, I give you everything that I have, my mind, body, soul and heart. It is all for you if you will have it. However if you will not, please I ask that you gently give it back. I have had it trampled on once or twice in this life and if it were to come from you that way I know that I will not survive it.

Tears were running down those beautiful checks. Lips were trembling, hands were ringing. The she was on her knees in front of me, we were nose to nose. I have never had someone give me such a gift. Never have I had something so beautiful, so pure and so simple. I will take your gift, your body, mind, soul and heart. I will treat them like they are my own. 

I will help you mend your trampled heart for it belongs with me now. Your will be loved in so many ways, that it will beat stronger then ever before. At that moment we embraced, I could feel my heart lighten just then. I felt my breath pause with the sheer beauty of her, the beauty of what we can be together.

She looked me in the eyes and told me I haven’t even told her my name. How could I have forgotten this? How could I confess my heart and all things to her and not even give her my own dammed name.

Does it matter I asked her. You can call me what ever you want, perhaps a new name can be given to me because I feel reborn with you by my side. That is something we can do, but first I would like to know the name you were given at your first birth.

I raised my face to the sky and looked into the clouds, hesitating to tell her, afraid to expose myself. I want to know, she said to me, then we shall decide.  I told her. A smile came onto her face. She asked why I was so afraid to tell her that. She told me that it is such a beautiful name and one that I should ever be ashamed of or scared to say.

I don’t think we should give you a new name. It already has so much meaning and such significance. It ‘s beautiful just like your soul and I would never want to think of you as anything but that.

That day began with so many unknowns, and look at us know. My Eve and I. Starting something so new and fresh and pure. A love that has been confessed by two souls, for today and always.

I want to thank you Eve, thank you for your blessed soul and heart, thank you for willing to share it with me and to grow with me. Holding your heart in my hands, I will take such care of you.

Always your,

Rose 

[anavoliselenu]

Heart of stone chapter 24

I felt my insides twist and the sickening in my stomach intensified. I swallowed the bile that welled in my throat. It was all I could do to stop myself from vomiting all over the floor. My heart was racing and my breathing became irregular. I hadn’t seen or heard from Trevor since that terrible day nearly two years prior, but never did I think that I would feel this way if our paths crossed again.

 It was as if the floor had come out from under me, and I was falling into an endless pit of nothing but blackness. I could feel the panic rising to meet me, so I quickly turned my back to him in an effort to pretend that he didn’t exist.

 Deep breaths. In and out. You’re fine.

 “Oh come on, Selena. Can’t you even say hi? Or even better, how about we head upstairs for a quick fuck. You know, for old times sake.”

 You son of a bitch!

 Angry heat instantly flooded my cheeks from his audacity. I spun on my heel to face him, all of my anxiety replaced by pure and unadulterated rage.

 “YOU! You are not allowed to talk to me. Ever,” I spat out through clenched teeth. I wanted nothing more than to claw the smug look off of his face.

 “Don’t be like that,” he said in a placating way. “It’s been a long time. You look good, Selena.”

 I ignored his poor attempt at flattery and narrowed my eyes. Staring him down, I tried to appear unaffected by him and come off as arrogant as he was.

 “I can’t say the same for you. You still look like the same old filthy swine to me. It shouldn’t surprise me that you’re into a scene like this now. At least here, you get permission to abuse women,” I said. My voice threatened to waver, but I was controlled enough to laden my tone with sarcasm as I motioned to the club around us.

 “I always was into this,” he said knowingly. He eyed me up and down, as if seeing me in a whole new light. “I must say though, if I had any idea that we shared similar interests, I might have thought twice about banging Lisa.”

 Images of a college dorm room flashed before me. The long legged blond that I caught him with had been tied up to the cheap metal bedframe.

 How come I didn’t remember that before now?

 I shook my head to clear it.

 “Go away, Trevor,” I seethed.

 “You’re still mad at me. But that’s okay, I like mad. It means I’ll get more of a fight from you the next time.”

 The trembling that I had managed to keep at bay up until that point came on full force. The fog that was my memory started to shift, and details that were long suppressed hit me square in the chest. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me, a pain so familiar that it forced me to remember what happened. My muddled memories suddenly became clear as day.

 I did fight back. I always knew that I must have, as I had bruises and broken bones to show for it. But I never fully recalled all of the details.

 I remember now.

 I had scratched, clawed, punched and kicked. But every attempt I made earned me another blow from his fist.

 And the lamp. It had been knocked off my nightstand. He used it. That’s how I received two broken ribs. It was the lamp.

 I couldn’t move after he hit me with it, the pain so unbearable that I could only lie there like dead weight while he tore into me. I winced from the recollection, the hurt as fresh as it was two years ago.

 I vaguely realized that Trevor was laughing, forcing my attention back to the present. His easy dismissal of the violence that I had endured caused my fury to mount to an astonishing level. I needed him gone before I did something drastic.

 “I said go away, Trevor. That’s the last time I’m going to say it.” My voice shook, making the discernable warning sound pathetic.

 “Or what?”

 I squared my shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. I would not allow myself to be intimidated by him again.

 “I’m here with someone. Trust me when I say that you don’t want to be here when he gets back.”

 “Maybe he could join us,” he suggested with a wink, reaching for me. When his hand made contact with my arm, I felt like I had been burned.

 “Don’t touch me – ever!” I exploded pulling away from him. “Don’t look at me! Don’t talk to me! Just get away from me!”

 Trevor jumped back, startled by my outburst. Given the chance, I would have thrown something at him – anything to inflict some sort of damage to the face that I hated above all others. However, a member of club security showed up out of nowhere and stepped in between Trevor and I.

 “Is there a problem, Miss?”

 “No problem at all,” Trevor answered for me, hands held up in mock surrender. “Just a misunderstanding.”

 “Are you sure that you’re all right?” the security guy asked me again. He was a big, beefy man with small eyes. He wore a black t-shirt with yellow lettering that boasted his title of Floor Security Manager. He didn’t look trustworthy to me, so I just nodded my response and turned away.

 “I think you’d better be on your way,” the manager suggested to Trevor.

 “Sure thing. I was just leaving. I already tapped that one anyways. She’s a terrible fuck,” I heard Trevor say.

 I glanced over my shoulder only to see Trevor glaring at me, but he backed away and disappeared in the crowd.

 I couldn’t speak. My nerves were shot, and I was trembling so bad that my knees threatened to buckle. I needed to sit down somewhere. But most of all, I needed to leave this place.

 What is taking Justin so long?

 I contemplated just leaving without him, but found an open bar stool and sat down instead. I scanned the sea of people around me, but I wasn’t really seeing them. I felt like I was in a bad dream, as if my surroundings were just an illusion. And for the second time that evening, I questioned why I wanted to come here so badly. With my history, a place like this should have terrified me. Everything about the club screamed of domination – the very thing that I had shied away from for years.

 So why do I want it from Justin? Or don’t I?

 Perhaps there was something mentally wrong with me. I had read about women that continued making the same mistakes, about the ones that jump from one abusive situation to the next. They neurotically seek relationships that mirror previous ones with the hopes that it will somehow turn out differently.

 Is my own traumatic history making me choose the wrong things?

 The loud music of the club pulsed in time to the rapid beating of my heart as I considered that possibility. I thought that I enjoyed the things that Justin and I did together, and that my relationship with him was different than it was with Trevor. However, I now found myself questioning whether or not they were actually one in the same.

 Am I just fooling myself?

 I began to analyze every emotion that I had surrounding Justin, not knowing if what I felt was real or if it was just something twisted in my psyche. However, I knew that I was shaken from a bizarre sequence of events that took place over the past few hours. Between my mother, the club, Sasha, and then seeing Trevor, it was near impossible to think clearly and rationally.

 But no matter what the cause was for my angst, the damage was done. The lines were now blurry. I didn’t know who I was anymore or what I wanted.

 I only knew that it was time for me to reevaluate everything in my life, including my current relationship with Justin.

     ****

     I splashed cold water on my face and looked at my reflection in the mirror. A tired bastard stared back at me. The strain over what happened with Sasha had exhausted me, and I regretted my decision to take Selena here.

 The look on her face when Sasha had practically assaulted her was one that I wouldn’t forget anytime soon. She appeared confused and terrified all at once, but it was the look of accusation that would haunt me for a while to come.

 I knew I was to blame. Selena wasn’t worldly to people like Sasha and I should have protected her better. My only defense was that I didn’t realize how much Selena would stick out in Club O. Her naivety and thirst for knowledge was like a bullseye for every predator in the joint.

 Given that, and my newfound knowledge of her traumatic past, I should have followed my original instincts. My club was not a place for her, and it was high time that I got her out of here.

 I pushed through the door of the men’s room and headed back to where I left Selena. However, I was instantly alarmed when I spotted her. She was sitting on a bar stool with her arms hugged tightly around her body. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and she was a ghastly shade of white.

 “What’s wrong?” I asked once I reached her. I put my hand on her shoulder, only to feel her trembling. “Why are you shaking so bad?”

 She looked up at me with a blank stare.

 “I just want to leave, Justin. Please, take me home.”

 “Okay. Angel, I’m so sorry,” I apologized, rubbing my hands up and down her arms. “I should never have brought you here. This was a huge mistake. When we get back to my place, I will draw you a hot bath and –.”

 “No, Justin. I want to go home. To my apartment, not yours,” she said cutting me off midsentence. I stopped rubbing her arms and looked deeper into her eyes. Her beautiful browns that were normally so expressive and full of life looked shockingly empty.

 Whatever she was thinking about was not something that I wished to discuss in a noisy, sex-laden club. I gave in to her request easily, with the idea that I could change her mind about going home once we were out of the building.

 “If that’s what you want to do,” I told her.

 We made our way up the stairs and back into the main lounge area. When we were walking through, I tried to put my arm around Selena’s shoulders, but she jerked away from me. Her rejection stung, but it was understandable. She had a right to be angry.

 I’m such an asshole for exposing her to this.

 I was about to tell her as much, when a man stepped in front of us and blocked our path towards the door. He was average height with sandy blond hair, but he had suspicious eyes. I felt Selena stiffen beside me.

 “It was good seeing you again, Selena. Enjoy the rest of your night,” he said easily. However, his tone was almost mocking and there was something shady about the way he leered at her.

 I instantly hated the man.

 Cocking my head to one side, I stared pointedly at him.

 “And you are?” I inquired coolly.

 “An old friend. Right, Selena?” he replied, tossing Selena a wink.

 “Let’s go, Justin,” Selena said. There was no denying the fact that this guy was making her nervous for some reason.

 Is he the cause for her upset?

 Perhaps it wasn’t the incident with Sasha at all.

 Selena hurried past whomever the jackass was, not bothering to wait to see if I was following. I was torn. A part of me wanted to stay behind and slug the stranger over the mere fact that he was bothering Selena. However, after deciding that it was best not to leave her alone anymore that evening, I threw a menacing glare at the guy and hurried towards the exit.

 When I exited the club, I saw that Selena was already halfway across the parking lot. I had to run to catch up with her.

 “Who was that guy?” I asked after reaching her.

 “Nobody,” was all that she said.

 “Bullshit. Who was he?” I asked again. She continued to walk in silence, but didn’t answer me. She was starting to seriously piss me off. I grabbed hold of her arm and spun her to face me. “Who was that guy, Selena?”

 She glanced down at my hand that was squeezing her arm, then up at my face. Her expression was full of fury, and her eyes were glassy from unshed tears.

 “Let go of my arm. Now,” she said icily.

 Shocked that I had lost my temper, I instantly let go and took a step back. My intent was to simply get her attention and I hadn’t meant to grab her that way.

 That’s the second time I lost my cool tonight.

 We walked the rest of the way to the car without speaking. Once we were seated inside, I cranked on the heat to ward off the chill. I was about to throw the car in reverse, but decided against it. I wanted to talk to first.

 “Are you going to tell me who that guy was now?”

 “No,” she stated, expression completely deadpan.

 I pursed my lips in annoyance. I would find out regardless, but it would be less of a headache for me if she just told me herself.

 “Fine. Then at least tell me what you’re thinking.”

 “Me and you,” she paused to motion her hand back and forth. “And our relationship. It isn’t normal.”

 “Normal is only how an individual defines it, Selena.”

 “No. It’s that we aren’t healthy for each other,” she said quietly.

 “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again to look at me. She didn’t seem angry anymore, but resolved. My heart started to hammer inside my chest, as I knew what she was going to say next. She was going to try to end us before we really even had a chance to start.

 I fucked this up.

 I held my breath and waited for her to speak.

 “You know my past,” she began. “You know that I’ve experienced violence of the worst kind. And although you haven’t shared your story with me, I know that you have your own demons that stem from an abusive father. Those two things combined…well, let’s just say that a psychiatrist could write a book about us.”

 Her expression was cold and distant, her words sounding like she had been practicing them in front of a mirror for days. It wasn’t her talking. This bleak and flat tempered person was not my angel.

 “You’re just shaken up after what happened with Sasha,” I tried to dismiss. “I can’t apologize enough for that. It’s making you talk nonsense.”

 “You really believe that’s all it is?”

 “Yes, I do.”

 “We both have serious trust issues,” she ascertained.

 “Selena, trust isn’t going to happen overnight. It takes time,” I tried to tell her patiently.

 “Hmm,” she mused. “I’m just wondering how much time would have passed before you told me that your mother is alive.”

 I stilled, as if jolted by an electric shock upon hearing that she knew of my mother. The fact that she waited until this moment to share her knowledge had me on guard, and my friend Matteo’s words resounded in my head.

 Secrets never stay hidden for long.

 “Where did you hear that?” I asked after several moments.

 “Does it really matter, Justin? Because even now, you still aren’t admitting it.”

 She was right. I couldn’t tell her. And I probably never would. There was too much at stake.

 “What’s your point?” I snapped, feeling my temper start to rise again. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish with all of this.”

 “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. No matter how hard we try, our past has shaped who we are today.”

 “Dammit! You’re so hell bent on talking about the fucking past. You are you. I am me. End of story. Why do we keep doing this?”

 “Because I have to!” she yelled. “Don’t you see? It’s an endless cycle. I went from one controlling guy to another. I refuse to wind up a statistic, Justin!”

 “What are you talking about?”

 “You! For all I know, you could turn out just like your father! Then where will that leave me?”

 I felt all the blood drain from my face.

 Just like your father…

 “Don’t,” I tried to warn. I shook my head, unable to think of anything else to say, completely devoid of all other words.

 “No really, I have to worry about these things. Studies show that people who have suffered from extreme situations of violence are more likely to become…”

 She went on and on about some crap that she had read. She began to quote articles about abused children growing into adulthood and about women who lose their identity by getting lost in an abusive relationship.

 However, I wasn’t really listening to anything she was saying. My ears were ringing, like the aftershock of being too close to a grenade detonation. Her original words just kept playing over and over again in my head.

 Just like your father…

 Selena had unknowingly voiced my worst fear, and crossed a line that she hadn’t known was drawn. I felt like I was free falling into a pit of nothingness, just as I had in my dream.

 I said the only thing that I could think of to make her stop talking.

 “Sapphire.”

“What?” I asked, confused by Justin’s use of my safe word.

 “Sapphire. I’ve had enough.”

 I looked at his face. It was twisted in pain, and the magnitude of hurt that shown in his eyes was shocking. My heart, that I had tried to keep tightly guarded, felt like it was splitting into a thousand pieces. Because of that pain, my decision to do what needed to be done solidified.

 “We are a lethal combination, Justin. We can’t work.”

 “I want us to work.”

 “Me too,” I sadly admitted.

 I reached up to touch his cheek. His eyes were full of regret.

 “I tried to warn you. I said that I wasn’t good for you,” he reminded me.

 “You’re right,” I agreed and smiled wistfully, thinking of the job interview that seemed to be forever and a day ago. “You did try to warn me. I should have listened to you. But then again, I was never very good at that.”

 I traced the lines of his face with my finger, committing every detail to memory. The strong contour of his jaw. His chiseled cheekbones. The perfectly shaped mouth, that even in that moment, I wanted to kiss. And his eyes…the beautiful sapphires that had lit up my soul. I would miss his eyes the most.

 I reluctantly pulled my hand away and climbed out of the car.

 “Where are you going?” he asked in alarm.

 He seemed shocked, as if he couldn’t see the inevitable. But then I realized, perhaps he did see it, but was only trying to deny it.

 “I’m going to get a cab.”

 “Angel, don’t do this,” he pleaded.

 I looked down at him. Pain lanced at my chest, but I was resolute in my choice.

 “Good-bye, Justin.”

 I closed the car door and began to walk down the long winding driveway that had brought us to Club O. Justin didn’t follow me, but that was okay. I knew that it was for the best. I was making the right decision.

 Then why does it hurt so bad?

 Deep down, I knew the answer. It hurt because I had allowed myself to become vulnerable. I had given Justin an essential part of myself. Not only did I give my trust, but I also gave him a piece of my heart that I knew I would never get back.

 When I reached the end of the drive, I slipped through the pedestrian gate that would take me to the street and phoned for a cab to pick me up.

 After ending the call, I looked down at my cell.

 Justin’s first gift.

 I reached up to finger the triskelion emblem that hung around my neck. Another gift, and a reminder of a life that would never be.

 His world, not mine.

 Memories of the past weeks flooded me, drowning me with their intensity. On impulse, I opened up the music folder in the phone and scanned the song titles in each of Justin’s playlists. Choosing a Metric song that was fitting for my mood, I sat down on the curb to wait.

 A tear trickled down my cheek, but I didn’t bother to wipe it away. Tears were not bad. They were healthy and good, just so long as I picked myself back up.

 And do that, I would.

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