#reading angst: evil despicable how could someone ever do this to me specifically
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wyofabdoms · 4 years ago
Text
Undercover I Do - Chapter 13
Characters: Javier Peña x female reader
Summary: While on an undercover assignment posing as a married couple, you are attacked and nearly assaulted. Upon waking, all you remember about Javier Peña is what you remembering seeing from two photographs of the two of you posing as the happily married couple. As you struggle to regain your memories, Javi struggles with his own feelings for you.
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Warnings: Implied cheating, swearing, destruction of government property, fluff, angst, mild reference and description of physical & sexual assault.
Word Count: 5048
Notes: The aftermath of you finding the file in Javi's office.
We've reached the end. I didn't expect this story to end this way; I really expected it to have a lot more smut...but! it got the ending it told me it wanted!
Let me know if you find any crazy mistakes. Feedback and comments greatly appreciated.
Be well!
Read on Ao3
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Gif not mine, created by bestintheparsec
You had always hated it when people said stupid shit like “all the pieces just fell into place.” Pieces don’t FALL into place. Pieces of pie don’t fall, they’re served. Puzzle pieces don’t fall, they’re carefully assessed and placed into a precise spot just for that specific piece. That saying had never made any sense to you and had always made you crazy.
But now suddenly, every inch that had been hidden in the dark from you was illuminated, highlighted. Everything seemed all at once so bright and overwhelming; one moment you had no recollection of anything written about in the report in your hands. The next moment, CLICK. The light had been turned on and everything was there again.
Everything made more sense now. Why everyone had seemed so on edge whenever they had spoken with you the last few weeks, everyone seeming to measure their words carefully. Why you hadn’t been able to jog any memories loose at all about your nuptials and marriage (or in fact any relationship at all) with Javier. Why you had felt so off-balance in your own apartment.
Why Javier had refused to sleep with you.
None of it was real. You felt the blood drain from your face as you remembered the parts that came next in Javi’s report before you read them, the memories coming faster than the words on the page, now.
The pieces falling into place.
The icy spear of fear that had sliced your chest when the first sicario had come up behind the two of you the night you’d been discovered and pistol whipped Javi, knocking him to the floor. The punches and scratches and lewd, terrible threats Ortiz’s cronies had rained down on you in the hours that you were separated from him. How you had never felt more relieved than when you’d been thrown into a room with your bloodied and bruised partner, saying his name over and over, so grateful that he wasn’t dead that you could barely draw breath. You had laid on the far side of the bedroom from him, tugging against your restraints, listening in the dark as he had murmured things to you and you had whispered back: plans of escape or to fight back and then, eventually, as it became clear that neither option was very likely, comforting words.
Your brain is moving faster now and more and more memories burn bright in front of you, each one shoving and fighting to be seen.
Ortiz had arrived then. Your brain flashed with the sour image of him leering over you, his meaty hands groping and fisting handfuls of your body, the sickly stench of his overpriced cologne poisoning your nostrils, making you gag. You felt his evil hand between your legs, searching, digging...but before he’d found purchase the noises had started. You remembered clearly now. You had blocked it out, the memory of that despicable man forcing himself on you.
At just that moment, you had heard the door open behind you. You’d looked up, trying to hold back the wave of memories that was suddenly crashing around you. You saw your partner standing in the doorway of his demolished office and were sure you’d said something to him. But the memory of Ortiz and what he had tried to do to you had sent your body shaking uncontrollably and you felt yourself crumpling inwards as more memories shoved their way through.
You remembered the blinding flash of light behind your eyes and then you remembered the heavy weight of your body being cradled in someone’s steady arms and you remembered hearing Javier’s voice coming from what seemed like a great distance. He’d been begging you for something. When you had managed to get your eyes open you’d seen him next to you in the ambulance. Your partner. You’d felt him squeeze your hand and assure you that he was there. He was your partner. He would always be there for you.
Just like now. He flew to your side, ripping his jacket off and wrapping it around you as you dissolved into a shivering puddle in the middle of his office. You were also distantly aware of Dixon’s voice shouting for someone to call your doctor, her commanding voice booming as she asked what the hell had happened. You heard the familiar voices of Van Ness and Fiestl murmuring, but Javier’s attention was on you. You heard him murmuring to you softly, carefully taking the file from your hands and telling you to breathe, that he was here, that it was going to be ok.
You had every reason in the world to not believe a word he said, to hate him right now. But all you could do was close your eyes as the tremors overtook you, all you could do was lean into him….
All you could do was trust him.
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Hours later, Javi sat on the edge of his seat in Dixon’s office. Also in the room was your partner’s doctor, the psychologist she had been seeing the last few weeks, and a representative from the Ambassador’s office. Javier’s nerves were frayed, his muscles tensed, ready to make a move in an instant. Dixon had been interviewing her for close to two solid hours.
He had only been half aware of the line of questioning his boss had been asking you; his focus had been entirely on his partner from the moment he’d found her reading the case file in his office. He had not left her side since she’d looked up at him and said his name. Dixon had arrived on scene moments later and had immediately sprung into action, calling for a full immediate medical inspection. Physically, she was fine. But as the doctor and then the psychologist and now Dixon had asked more questions, it was clear that mentally she appeared to be fully recovered as well, albeit slightly shaken by the abrupt and jarring reappearance of her missing memories.
While Dixon continued to assess her agent’s recollection about recent events, Javi kept his gaze leveled on his partner’s profile. He refused to look away from her. If she started to wobble he wanted to be able to catch her. If she started to shake again, he wanted to be able to step forward and cover her shoulders with his jacket. But his brave partner...his strong, smart, beautiful, brave partner...had moved through the questions with her usual detached grace and stoicism. She had not once looked at him since the moment she’d said his name in his office.
He had shared space with his partner for long enough to be familiar with her body language when she was pissed.
And right now, she was more pissed than he had maybe ever seen her.
He knew she was pissed at him. That was fair. He could also detect a fair amount of anger directed toward their boss even after Dixon had explained why they had made the decisions they had in recent days. The doctor had thrown in his own two cents and as they continued to talk, he felt some of her anger temper towards them. It had flared again when Dixon had explained that they had begun paperwork to send her home; Javi’s heart had started pounding and his hand had grasped the arm of his chair in a death grip. But both his worry and your anger lifted when it became clear that, with the full recovery of her memory, she would be free to continue working as an agent in Columbia, after a full physical and mental assessment had been made and signed off on.
Though her anger had waned towards Dixon, he knew it was a bad sign that his partner was refusing to look at him. When speaking of events in which he was involved, she only referred to him as “Agent Peña” and she had never directed a question at him, instead asking through Dixon for clarification on details: the pretending, the make believe married life, the intricacies of the scheme they had concocted to keep her in her fictitious world of memories. She had been very careful to not ask too many revealing questions...Javi recognized her restraint in what she revealed in her inquiries. He knew what she was attempting to deduce: how far had Dixon instructed him to take the “acting like you're married until her memory comes back”? Her response to anything he said was chilly, to put it lightly and Dixon soon picked up on the cold front, too.
“All right,” the older woman said, leaning forward on her desk and letting out a weary sigh. “I think it’s safe to say,” she gestured toward the Ambassador’s representative, “that no one is going to be sent home today.” The representative nodded in agreement. Dixon rose along with the young man in a suit and directed him and the doctors towards the door. “I’d like to speak to my agent alone if we all feel comfortable with moving forward?” Javi kept his eyes on his partner’s face, her own eyes intentionally avoiding him, instead drilling holes into the American flag hanging behind Dixon’s desk. He willed her to look at him, silently screamed for her to look at him. If she would just look at him, if he could just catch her eyes, just for a moment, he would know. He could see her. She’d be able to see him. She’d be able to SEE how he felt about all of this. He just needed her to LOOK at him.
“Agent Peña…” His silent pleas were interrupted by Dixon, standing next to the open door of her office, holding it wide and clearly waiting for him to get up and leave. He swallowed hard, and started to open his mouth to protest. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say but he couldn’t leave her. He was her partner. What if she needed him?
“Agent Dixon?” His partner’s voice was heavy in the sudden silence of the office. It was edged in steel, cold like ice and dripping with anger. “Perhaps you could see to it that Agent Peña gets his shit out of my apartment before I get home…” Eyes still on the wall in front of her, she let the words land in the space between them. Addressed to Dixon, they served as a slap across his face and he felt as though he’d been shoved in the gut, all of the air leaving his lungs at once.
“Ah. Yes, well….Agent Peña?” Without a word, Javi stood and stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
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“You’ve been right about him this whole time,” you say to Dixon after the woman settles back behind her desk. “He’s only ever been after one thing. I should have listened to you. He’s like every other man in the world: only thinks with their dick.”
Dixon steeples her fingers under her chin and studies you for a moment, concern lacing her forehead.
“Tell me more.”
You’re taken aback by this response. Dixon has always been the first to serve up cautionary tales of fraternization with colleagues, has always been able to sense when your restraint against your partner was failing and give you a pep talk to reinforce your will to withstand his flirtations. This was an unusually softer response.
“He just…” You stop, not quite sure what you want to say. You take a deep breath and look at your boss. “We can’t be partners after this.” Dixon starts at your words, sitting up straight.
“That’s…” The older woman studies you for a moment before asking carefully, “Why not?”
You scoff in disbelief.
“How can you expect me to work with him now? To ever trust him again?” When Dixon says nothing, you push on. “He lied to me! He lied SO WELL...I never would have thought he was that good of a liar.” Dixon still doesn’t speak and you rise from your chair and start to pace. “He had me feeling so sure. Sooooo…..so, certain. He worked me REALLY good, Dixon, I gotta tell ya. ‘Sure, I’ll pretend she’s my wife! Maybe THEN I can get in her pants!’ He didn’t even have to work at it! Just let me keep thinking we were married and that we were SUPPOSED to….” you stop yourself from growling out the word “fuck” in front of your boss. You continue, your voice softer now, disbelieving. “He was SUCH a good liar, Dixon. He had me believe-”
“What? That you were married?” The older woman cut you off. “You can’t put that all on him. He was ordered to do that.” You were confused by her sudden defense of him and you stopped your pacing to stare at her. The older woman sat back in her chair and appraised you for a moment before continuing. “Peña debriefed with me every day. Shared probably more than he wanted to about what was happening. I’ll admit, yes, I was initially a little worried about the arrangement. But based on everything he told me, I never thought…” a flash of concern crossed her eyes and she looked at you hard. “I only ever got his side of the story, of course. So, let me just make sure we’re clear, that I’m understanding you correctly: Are you telling me that Peña took advantage of you in this situation?” She waited.
You sat back down heavily in your chair, considering what she was asking you, thinking back over every interaction you had had with Javi since you’d come home from the hospital. Your first day back when he’d found you sobbing in your closet and gently tucked you in bed to rest. The awkward run in after your shower, when he had intentionally turned away from you. The walks around the neighborhood everyday, through the markets, the mundane routines of cooking a meal or watching tv together, reading reports or the paper. His reliable presence sleeping on your couch every night until that thunderstorm when you had been struck by nightmares (now you knew they were memories) and how he had held you so tightly and securely as you’d cried, then how he’d held you in his arms every night following as you drifted off to sleep. You were distantly aware that Dixon was still talking and you tuned back in.
“...because if that’s the case I will ruin him. He will never work again, not if I have anything to say about it. If he lied to me about the situation…”
“No.” You stop her rant, holding up a hand. “It...it wasn’t like that, Dixon. He didn’t. He didn’t take advantage of me. That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just... It wasn’t…."
Wasn’t...what?
It wasn’t real?
Was that why you were so upset? Yes, the sudden return of your memories of a traumatic event had shaken you, but why were you so upset with Javier Peña? He had done what he’d been ordered to do: pretend to be your husband.
You thought back to those most charged and intimate moments between the two of you. From the get-go after your hospital release, he’d been careful not to touch you until you had made it clear it was ok. He hadn’t said a word when he’d seen you in your towel. And, now that you were reflecting on it, all of the intimate moments had been initiated by you. The shower, the early mornings lying next to him in bed, the heavy making out on the couch.
Your mind suddenly reeled to the conversations you had had with him: about your wedding, when you’d asked about wanting kids, the book of poetry you’d found with the pictures in his office. The drunken argument you’d had with him the night before.
“I promise you: It’s all gonna make sense when things are back to how they were….I haven’t lied to you once this whole time. Not once...please, please know I’m doing this because...because I love you.”
Is that why you felt like you could cry at the thought of you facing your partner ever again? Because a small cracked part inside of you had felt complete at the idea of being married to Javier Peña? And now, that had ended up not being true. As your anger and fear from the initial shock of your recovered memories fell away, you were now just left with an aching sadness that something that had felt so real and so right… had actually ended up being nothing at all.
It had felt so real. So true. You had believed him. About all of it.
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Javier stared at the ceiling of his apartment, watching the shadows crawl inch by inch towards morning. He had been laying here on his couch for hours, trying to decide if he should give up on sleep and go into work or if he should march downstairs and bang on her door and demand that she talk to him.
He heaved another heavy sigh and threw his arm across his eyes, begging whatever higher power might be listening to put him out of his misery and let him sleep away this nightmare situation for just a little while.
He thought the soft knocking on his door was his imagination at first. Then he heard it again and he bolted upright. His stomach clenched when he saw her through the peephole and he threw the door open, forgetting about his disheveled state of appearance until she swept an appraising eye up and down: shirtless, barefoot, jeans wrinkled and baggy, belt unbuckled hair sticking up in every direction and eyes red-rimmed from smoke and sleeplessness.
“Hey,” He croaked, his voice betraying the relaxed demeanor he hoped to convey. He was so surprised that she was standing in front of him that he forgot to invite her in, and after several moments of saying nothing, she breezed past him through the partially opened door, forcing him to step backwards out of her way and nearly falling over a box of his things that he’d dropped inside the door after hauling it back upstairs.
She hovered in his hallway for a moment or two, staring into the shadows of his apartment, then turned to face him. She held up a wadded ball of something: one of his shirts. The pink one that she’d always given him so much grief about but that he’d found her clutching in the closet that first day back from the hospital. She tossed the shirt into one of the overfilled boxes behind him and then crossed her arms over her chest. The hallway was dark and, like the rest of his apartment, he couldn’t see her face clearly; he moved to turn on a light but her voice stopped him before he made it to the light switch.
“Was any of it real?”
He didn’t ask her to clarify or ask what she meant. He knew what she meant and to pretend otherwise would have only insulted her and made her angrier with him.
“Yes.” It was all he could trust himself to say.
“Which parts?”
She had him. This was the chance he had been afraid he would never get this morning, when he’d been terrified of losing her. She was giving him this moment, this chance to tell her the truth. To tell her how he felt.
But he was a coward. He felt those cowardly claws reach up from inside of him and pull his resolve and courage back down beneath the darkness of himself, of his self-loathing and the hatred he had for who he had become. His gaze flicked away from her, he put a hand on his hip and ran his other through his hair nonchalantly and he shrugged.
“I dunno, it was just…” She took an aggressive step forward into his personal space, causing him to straighten and jolt at her sudden closeness.
“Which parts?” She asked again, more forcefully this time. Her eyes glittered in the shadows and he could see them searching his face, and he found it was easier to look at her here, in the half darkness. He felt a small shred of courage still burning deep within himself and he dove towards it.
“I...I didn’t lie to you. I never told you a lie. Not once. I made sure….I made sure I didn’t ever actually speak a lie to you.” He saw her roll her eyes and he pressed forward while he still had the will to speak. “I know, I know. Omission and all of that. I know. And you’re right. But I didn’t lie to you. And I’m sorry for…” he took a deep breath. He knew this part was important. He needed to get it right. “I’m sorry about the way I...made you feel. About...ya know,” he waved his hand in the space between the two of them. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like I didn’t want to be with you. I know that hurt you. That’s not…” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to hate me when this was all over. I…” He felt his stomach turn watery. “I wanted to…” He looked at her then, his eyes burning into hers for a moment. “I wanted to.” He said again, making sure she knew what he meant. “But I knew you’d never forgive when you got your memory back if I let that happen. And, I’m sorry...this morning...I know it was too close...I just thought…”
When she pressed her warm lips to his, he almost fell backwards over the boxes again, but he was in an instant grateful that she had stopped any further words from stammering out of his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her in part to steady himself but also to pull her the final small distance into him. When she pulled her lips away, he didn’t let go of her and she didn’t make an attempt to move away from the warm embrace of his arms.
“You told me there wasn’t anyone else.” Her warm eyes looked up at him, her lips hovering mere centimeters from his.
“There isn’t.”
“I saw you this morning...with her.” Javi let his forehead fall against hers and he sighed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I didn’t want for that to happen. I was...I don’t want to sound like a pervert or anything but...I was still thinking about you when she showed up and…” He stopped talking, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could say to excuse himself. “I’m sorry.” He repeated it more softly this time, leaving an opening at the end of the two little words; allowing room for her to take control of what happened next.
They stood like that for several long moments in the dark, her hands linked around his neck, his arms firmly snaked around her waist, palms flat on her back, foreheads resting together, sharing one another’s breath. Then, ever so softly and so timidly he almost didn’t recognize it as her voice, could barely hear her:
“Did you mean it?”
Again he knew better than to act like he didn’t know what she was talking about. He nodded his head against her, holding his breath. She pulled back to look him in directly in the eyes, asking him more loudly this time, seeking the words.
“Did you?”
He had to say it. If he didn’t he would lose her forever, he knew it for certain. She would leave his apartment and never look back.
“Yes.” He had never found a single word so difficult to say. He saw a flash of frustration in her eyes.
“Javi…”
“I love you.”
There.
There it was.
The truth. That was real.
He panicked in the moments that came after, feeling every instinct inside of him screaming to run away. But her gaze and her soft breath on his face and the way her hands softly danced through the short hairs on the back of his neck kept him rooted in place.
Her lips lifted in a small smile.
“Yeah?” she breathed. He couldn’t help but return a small smile.
“Yeah.”
He wasn’t sure if she pulled him to her or if she leaned into him, but her lips were on his again, this time her tongue seeking entrance which he gladly and desperately granted. He pulled her tighter against him, letting a soft moan escape from deep inside him as their tongues tasted each other hungrily. He had never thought something could feel as good as the sensation of her fingers in his hair, tugging gently.
He took his cue from her and when her lips left his and began to travel along his jaw, around his ear, down his neck, he began to let his hands roam her around her hips, kneading handfuls of her backside in his grip. She pressed her full weight into him as he grasped her and the backs of his legs knocked into the boxes again on the floor behind him; he stumbled and they both nearly went crashing to the floor. Instead they did a sharp half-lean, half-fall into the hallway wall, both of them laughing like teenagers but still refusing to break their kiss. Eventually, Javi pulled away with great effort and steadied them both before sliding his hands along the backs of her thighs and patting, signaling her to hop and wrap her arms around his waist, which she happily did. He was surprised to feel a broad smile plastered over his face as he began to walk her towards his front door, peppering kisses along her neck and nibbling her ear.
“Wait!” She pulled away from his lips, looking at him quizzically at the sound of the door opening behind her. “Where the hell are we going?” He grinned up at her sweetly.
“Your apartment. Your bed is way fucking better than mine.” She threw her head back and laughed and he felt his own rumbling leave his own chest and bubble out of his mouth as he watched her face transform with delight amidst the moonlight and soft shadows. God she was so beautiful. She leaned down and kissed him again, fiercely.
He had to stop for a moment, leaning against the wall, the sheer force of her passion bleeding through her kiss into his soul and causing him to lose control of his very sense of self. He felt for a moment like he was floating and was unsure he would be able to support both of them. Then he felt her hands tangle in his hair again and it grounded him, brought his thoughts swimming back through the swirling haze of desire he felt for her. He dropped her to her feet, abruptly and she began to protest, but then squealed with surprise and delight when he immediately leaned into her and chucked her over one shoulder, both of them laughing as he tore down the stairs to her apartment.
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Much later, after they had explored and tasted and taken one another several times over, Javi lay tangled in the sweaty bed sheets, perfectly content to live out the remainder of his life with his head nestled comfortable on her soft belly, his eyes drooping and sleepy from sex and utter contentment.
He listened to the sound of her steady breathing and revelled in the gentle rise and fall of his own head as air filled her body and then left it again gently, raising his head slowly and releasing it back down with each breath she took. It reminded him of when he was a boy, going fishing with his dad on the lake in the cold early mornings when the waters were just waking up; the waves lapping the side of the boat and creating a steady up...down...up...down... The memory was peaceful and relaxing, just as this moment with her was now. He would throw himself into the ocean that was her for the rest of his life if she would have him, he thought.
He felt her hand move across her stomach and touch the top of his head. He glanced up at her and saw her gazing back at him with her own set of sleepy eyes. He stared at her for a long while, wanted to say something, wanted to say just the right thing....the perfect thing. The romantic thing.
But then he didn’t have to.
She carefully weaved her fingers through his hair, gave him a small smile, released a soft contented sigh, and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep, smile still dancing across her lips. He smiled, too and turned his face to press a soft kiss into her middle, just between her breasts, above where he could feel her heart beating steadily. Then he returned his head to his original spot and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the rhythm and motion of her breath.
Before he slipped down into the soft haze of sleep, his gaze fell upon the delicate white petals edged in pink of plumeria.
They were standing in a vase of water on the table next to the bed. She had put them there at some point after he had brought them to her as a peace offering...was that only the night before? He had felt like he had lived two lifetimes with her these last 24 hours. When they had reached her apartment, time had slowed as they had discovered one another; each time he had spilled himself inside of her or she had cried his name as she came apart around him he had whispered to her once more:
“I love you.”
He had never felt anything like it before, being with her, saying those words. It was passionate and sexy and powerful.
It was real.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the scent of her, the scent of them, mingled with the soft scent of the flowers that stood watch over them as they slept.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12
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skzluvs · 5 years ago
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Crimson Roses 🥀; Kim Seungmin
Genre: Vampire Au! College Au! Angst; Fluff?
Warnings: Mentions of blood, Mild swearing
Word count: 3.6K
A/N: It was supposed to be a quick little drabble and became a whole ass fic. All I have to say is vampire concept seungmin HOT
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He observed you from the corner of his eye.
There you were sitting on the first row with your materials spread out on the desk, taking notes as your life depended upon it.
He knew how interested you were on all those past events, on the ones we tend to call history because they change the course of living.
He found himself lost on your endearing figure. On the way you tried to blow the hair falling on your face but failing during the process, frowning at the distracting tingling sensation on your forehead. He smiled to himself wishing he could be the one that could brush your hair away softly.
But that was impossible.You were definitely too kind
And He... He was just a simple evil creature that had lived longed enough to know that falling for a mortal would be nothing more than a death sentence
An a crucifix to his heart.
The voice of his professor interrupted Seungmin's thoughts.
"Before you leave, we are getting closer to the end of the semester Which means you'll be assigned a project that is worth half of your final grade, It'll be a partner assignment and you will have a week to turn it in" He informed to all the students. The classroom exploded with all source of complaints from everyone who was not happy to say the least at the sudden notice.
"Are we allowed to pick our partners" You asked raising your hand. It's not like you had someone you already wanted to work with in mind; more like you could absolutely take advantage of this opportunity to pair up with Lee Minho. He was the top of your class, partnering up with him would undoubtedly mean securing that grade. And you needed that.
"Unfortunately for all of you I've already decided on that" He replied raising a list with names on it.
He began to call one by one, making the teammates move around to sit together by their announced partner. You were tapping your foot impatiently. This assignment played a crucial part on your final grade therefore you were scared your partner would not contribute enough for you to get a passing score.
" Y/L/N Y/N and Kim Seungmin" He said handing you a piece of paper with the prompt and expectations written on the back of it.
You lifted your head, getting rid of the air you had been holding on your lungs. Your eyes scanning the room. Making eye contact with him for a second, his eyes staring directly at your soul. You turned around quickly; a rosy blush spread over your cheeks.
You knew nothing about Kim Seungmin, besides he was drop dead gorgeous. He had this mysterious aura that was attractive. He was certainly not the bad boy type; He was more reserved, only hanged out with his close group of friends.
Who you had to admit they were all extremely cool.
Seungmin almost lost his bunkers when you were assigned as his partner for that stupid historical events project.
He knew everything about history. He lived through it; from the renaissance to the post modern movement. Seungmin had been around for at least 1000 years.
To say that living for so long had become nothing less but boring would be an euphemism. Because it was. He had gained experience and power through the decades. But it was no longer exciting.
Until he found you. You were the one who acted magnetically with his heart an undeniable attraction that made him stay for the first time. Seungmin was known for being playful. Never sticked around for long because he found humans despicable. He was not too fond of them. But his perspective changed completely the day he first saw you.
It was probably because you were not human like. With an overwhelming beauty and high manners. In all of the years he had lived on earth, he never met such a sublime soul like yours. So Breathtaking and admirable.
You stood up from your chair with a panting breathing walking through the aisle, all the way to the back to his usual seat. You were more than nervous; Seungmin's presence truly intimidated you.
You sat next to him and offered him a smile. Hoping the atmosphere between you two wouldn't be as awkward.
You expected him to be quiet most of the time as you was trying to come up with ideas for the project. However it was the total opposite he kept on engaging on the conversation. It felt comfortable how he carefully listened to you and instantly agreed with your opinion. Surprisingly he knew so much about the topic; more than you ever imagined as the few times you spared a glaze at him during class he seemed to be doing everything but paying attention.
After discussing your main subtopics you decided it was enough work for one day, and decided to set a schedule to work on the other parts of the project outside of school.
" We need to meet up to work on the presentation" You said looking through the papers to were holding on your hands.
He looked at you with adoring eyes. You looked so cute when you were concentrated.
"Definitely, where do you want to meet at?" He asked you smiling.
" What do you think about the coffee shop down the street? I can bring my computer so we can do it digitally unless you are old fashioned and prefer to work on a poster we can do research on the library" you said shrugging your shoulders.
" Y/N you did not just called me a boomer"
" I mean if the term fits you then" you said laughing.
" Back in my days, youngsters were respectful towards their elders" He said in a grandpa like voice.
" We are the same age!!!" You yelled at him unable to control yourself from laughing at his impersonation.
Or at least that's what you think; He said to himself.
" We are supposed to deliver history through this project don't you think Y/N I say we should do it the right way"
" You are right everyone is probably going to go down the easy road but we are smarter" You said getting excited; reaching your hand to high Five him. "Great minds think alike"
" I can assure you we are going to beat Minho's and Jisung's project"
You had to acknowledge Seungmin and yourself made an amazing dynamic duo. You were content at the selection of your partner and definitely had to thank the professor for it. Because you two clicked with such effortlessness.
The bell ranged and you had to say your goodbyes to go into your next class.
You were standing by the door ready to leave but you turned around quickly to yell at Seungmin.
" I'll meet you at 5 inside the library and you better be on time boomer" you said with a playful smirk
Wanting to mess with him; gaining a loud laugh from your partner. pretending to act offended crossing his arms.
Seungmin went to the library earlier than the time you had set. He rushed his way there, right before excusing himself from his group of friends who were going to hangout after class.
He wanted to pick up a few books for you; he thought you would find them interesting.
He scanned the aisles, holding with one hand a pair of hard cover books that were just as dusty as the coffin where he used to sleep in, during the counter reformation.
He sat at a table and laid the books, shifting uncontrollably in his seat, from time to time, observing the clock, waiting for you to come through those doors.
Hell, you were fucking late. And you regretted taking that extra time looking through your closet; trying to find something decent to wear. Is not like you were to meet Seungmin for a date, it was a simple study session; however for some reason you wanted to look presentable. He always looked good no matter what. Which was totally unfair.With that leather jacket and fitting tight pants that made him long taller. Your mind wondered for a second. And you began to question yourself if you were starting to develop a small crush on the pale boy.
You were walking as fast as your feet allowed you. Through the hallways, your high heel boots were making loud noises every time you took a step forward. The dress you wore lifted a couple of times due to the wind. Your hair was probably entangled from running the couple of blocks from your apartment back to campus. Your shoe selection had definitely became a nightmare to your now bruised feet.
Your hands were sweaty and you had to remind yourself. " Y/N this is not a date once again you are just stuck with him for the project stop being delusional" you said trying to calm down. Taking a deep breath before pulling the door to enter the library.
You tried to fix yourself before spotting Seungmin sitting on the back. He smiled with relief at your sight. You couldn't be more awkward by sending him an effusive wave. " What's all this" you asked pointing at the pile of books laying on the edge of the table. "Just some research materials" He said.
" We are going to be here for a while then..." you said jokingly lifting a book from the stack. Leaving at least 10 more underneath.
" I don't mind as long as our project comes out good" He replied to you brushing his head to the side.
What he actually meant was that he didn't mind as long as he could spend the most time with you as possible. He didn't even gave a single care about the goddamn project, all he wanted was your company.
You two began to read the old books; most of them focused on events that happened during the 17th and 18th century.
Seungmin was almost falling asleep when you suddenly jumped in excitement next to him.
" Look Seungmin!" you said and began to quote the reading out loud "On the baroque era there were myths about vampires who attacked its victims during the night draining their blood as a food source."
" Let me see" He said taking the book in his hands. Reading word for word and For his surprised It had to be a fucking article about undead creatures specifically Vampires. How lucky seungmin got with that one. "You don't believe on those things do you Y/N" He asked curiously awaiting for your response.
" I mean; I do believe that there could be creature such as vampires out there. I just don't believe in all those tails you know, the ones that over romanticized or demoralized their existence. In my opinion vampires are not blood-thirsting bats. If they do consume blood it must be because it's their only food source they can't fight against those Instincts. It'll be like going against natural selection. They do what they can to survive"
Seungmin was more than pleased at your explanation. He couldn't contained himself from looking you with sparkling eyes and a huge smile plastered on his lips.
It made him happy that you weren't into that cliché bullshit like Bella and Edward type of fantasy. That even if you didn't knew the whole spectrum you still had a pretty clear understanding of his lineage.
Your words made his heart warm. He did an introspection on the reasons why he liked you so much; to begin with you were understanding like no other, you never judged anyone based off looks, you spent your time getting to know them first, smiling kindly at everyone and never seeking for recognition but always helping out of selflessness.
In Seungmin's eyes you were all he always wanted a person so pure like you was impracticable to find somewhere else. He thanked for the timing being right for him to meet you, because after all these years living in vain, you were the only one and he was glad he waited everlastingly to be with you right now, in this moment. He will treasure it forever in his heart.
The weeks passed by and Seungmin and you got to finish the project, a perfect chronological detailed poster that contained every important event through history. Your presentation was to say the least the best one among all your classmates even Lee Minho's and Han Jisung's was not even half as good as yours. Your grade boosted quickly with that perfect score.
And you had to give most of the credit to Seungmin he provided most of the facts you were utterly impressed at his range of understanding history so well. It was as he knew better than all those books you spent hours reading. You called him a true intellectual.
The things with Seungmin changed after the project. You could say you got closer to him than to any other person.
Your friendship with him began to shift towards a completely different direction the morning he came early holding a white rose, on its stem a little note wrapped around it.
He still remembers the blush that covered all your face when he handed it to you. You were truly speechless. You almost cried at the middle of the classroom due to the poem he had handwritten for you.
" Your fragrance just as sweet as the one the roses give off when they're cover in dew
Blissful sight at the sunshine caressing your filaments
You're the flower I carefully picked out from the field
The only untarnished one
You natural beauty worthy of being preserved
I’ll water your roots everyday just tell me you’ll stay with me even if the rain overflows our pot "
From that day onwards. He gifted you a white rose every single day and you never knew why. But you loved it so much. You made a bouquet with all of them and kept them safe in a vessel displayed as a centerpiece on your kitchen table.
He truly believed white represented your purity
It was a shame he had to stain your soul
That he tinted the petals scarlet.
It was dark outside on a night where the ‘blood’ moon eclipse appeared in the skies. And in the shadows there was something that challenged Seungmin's own instinct.
It was part of his nature.
How he was able to smell the candid scent of your blood despite the distance
It was endearing almost hypnotizing for him.
A battle for self control.
Where he wanted to paint white roses with the deepest red.
Seungmin called you during midnight you answered without hesitation as his name appeared brightening your phone screen.
Heaving breathing's was all you were able to hear through the other line.
“Min is everything okay? Why are you out of breath I'm getting worried” it was unusual for him to call you at this hour, your heartbeats began to increase at his response. “Can we meet now? I'm on my way to your apartment” His voice was low. You never heard seungmin talk like that with such desperation. It sent shivers down your spine.
“Of course but tell me did you got in so kind of trouble” You asked with a preoccupied tone.
“I'll explain everything to you once I get there” He said hanging up immediately.
He was scared at the mere thought of you finding out
He wouldn't be able to handle the terrifying look on your face at the sight of his fangs.
He always lived with ease in between humans
He had adapted himself into their characters creating the perfect facade. He did it all for you.
Going back to this college life was definitely not his style but you made him stay. Life finally made sense the moment he saw you and now he had to reveal his true identity because you didn’t deserved to be lied to. No matter the outcome. He would have to face it.
When he reached you apartment his pale face was almost translucent. He gathered all his courage to knock on your door.
You rushed rapidly opening the door; with worry eating you inside. The first thing you noticed was how dark his eyes were, his pupils were almost completely dilated.
You quickly wrapped him into a hug. You didn’t knew what was going on but you were here for him regardless. You were always going to be there.
“Let's take a walk” He said out of nowhere. Intertwining his hand with yours and leading you outside.
It was dark and the moon was shining brighter than ever before. You walked through the streets without certain direction just enjoying each other’s presence.
Your reassuring smile seemed to calmed Seungmin down.
“I have something to say to you, but before I do you need to know that I like you, that I've been in love with you since I first saw you and that what I'm about to say doesn't change a thing” He said stopping your tracks, your face almost collapsing into his chest. You were standing face to face with him.
“I like you too seungmin... “ You couldn't think properly because there was something else behind it, something that could change your feelings towards him. The true reason behind his so blunt sudden confession.
You knew Seungmin. He wasn't the type that seeks for trouble that's why you just couldn't wrap your head around what exactly was he hiding from you.
“I- I am a vampire” He stared at you with bloodshot eyes while letting his fangs slowly come down his teeth. He lowered his head frightened at your reaction.
You were in a state of shock. Rubbing your eyes multiple times at the sight in front of you because it was truly unbelievable.
You had to regain your posture before speaking again. You were experiencing a difficulty at making your words exist your mouth.
“That doesn't change anything seungmin, I might be going crazy, Fuck. You just said a vampire. I love you nonetheless because I fell for Kim Seungmin. I don't care if you are a vampire, a demon, a demigod, I'm in love with you because you are you. And now that you know that I reciprocate your feelings something tells me this comes at a higher price” You said breathless.
“It does Y/N we cant be together I have instincts that can't be controlled... it's getting harder everyday not wanting to you know” Not even able to finish his own sentence because it was embarrassing enough.
“Bite me?” You said lifting his chin from the ground “look at me... Min you want to bite my neck?” You asked straightforward.
“Yes” He said in an inaudible tone.
“What does that mean, what happened if you actually do it, do the things I read from the article are actually true” You asked biting your own bottom lip until you savored the metal flavor of your own blood. The one seungmin desired to have a taste from.
“No Y/N. I could never do that you. You are just too beautiful and flawless you don't deserve to get ruined by me”
“Stop treating me like I can't take my own decisions seungmin I know exactly what I want” You snapped back at him.
“You don't know what you are talking about is way more than just transforming you'll have to serve to the underworld in perpetuity”
“You have been alone long enough seungmin let me stay by your side. I want to immortalize this love
And be with you for the rest of the eternity”
“Just bite me seungmin I beg you” you implore to him, decisively pleading eyes.
You wanted this like you never wanted something else more in your whole entire life.
That’s all it took for Seungmin’s body to wash over lust. He places his mouth in between the crock of your neck trailing soft teasing kisses along the way. Right until he found that sweet perfect spot. The one that drove you completely insane.
You let out an agonizing scream. Filled with both pain and pleasure at the same time, when his teeth was incrusted without a warning sign tugging at your sensitive skin. He savored every single drop of blood that instantly began to drip from the laceration down your neck.
You began to convulse. Your body shaking and veins popping out from your skin. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head almost unconsciously.
Your soul transforming into pure immorality and immortality. Reaching an inexplicable climax that threw you over the edge. An overwhelming feeling that carried iniquitous power.
When you came back still too fragile to stand with your own feet. You were no longer a human being. Your fangs and sinful eyes and ghostly complexion gave out for finalizing the end of your transition.
Seungmin carried you in his back. You were now forever his. While he took you back to the apartment you dared to ask him something that had been lingering on your mind.
“So all your friends are vampires as well” You said intrigued.
“ Yes all of them” He said clearly laughing at your weird unexpected question.
“Even Jeongin!?” You couldn’t believe the cutest student could possible be a vampire.
“ Even Jeongin” He responded making you gasp in a shocking manner.
“ How... He’s like the most adorable thing on earth I don’t understand” you said whispering in disbelief.
“You mean on hell he’s good at pretending but that kid is nothing but pure evil”
Kissing your forehead and whipping your sweat, you looked exhausted but yet still beautiful as always. He laid you down on your bed. Playing with your hair. He would take care of you as he promised with all those flowers he once gave you.
That were no longer white but crimson roses.
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icantlose · 6 years ago
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✨ LOVELY OOC MEME ✨
✨ TAGGED BY: No one, saw this floating around and I wanted to do it! It looks fun. :) ✨ TAGGING: @coyoteeugly @lupus-rubidus and @androsswannabe 
NAME: Rusty NICKNAME: Rusty, Parli AGE: 23 FACE CLAIM: Lilo from Lilo and Stitch  PRONOUNS: she/her but call me whatever HEIGHT: 5′ BIRTHDAY: April 27th
AESTHETIC: La Cosa Nostra; 1950′s Italian-American mafia, Sicily and Venice; gondola boats drifting lazily down the grand canal | playing cards, drugs and guns | masquerade masks, deception, hazy charcoal drawings and oil paintings with lost edges. 
LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO:  Chris Cornell -- Climbing up the Walls came on while i was driving today
FAVORITE MUSE ( S ) YOU’VE WRITTEN: My most favorite muse ever is The Outsider from the Dishonored series, though I’m also super attached to my Nick muse from Left 4 Dead 2. I’m kind of warring with myself on my stance on Wolf. I love writing for him and developing him but simultaneously he stresses me out a lot. I’m also growing more and more fond of Andross the more I use him. A long time ago I used to have a Gary Oak that I was very much attached to for sentimental reasons. He was my first RP muse ever and I deleted him in an emotional meltdown after an ugly break up. He was poorly developed, badly written and lost in terms of direction but I loved him.
WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO TAKE ON YOUR CURRENT MUSE ( THAT YOU ARE POSTING THIS ON ): Being able to enjoy my time with my best friend. I started writing for him on twitter, but fell out of him pretty quickly and left him to collect dust. It wasn’t until I turned my best friend onto the Star Fox series that my interest in Wolf resurfaced. By this time, I had already moved to tumblr as an RP platform because it was a little more accommodating to my preferred roleplay style. I could be remembering wrong, but I believe my BFF expressed interest in creating a roleplay blog for a Star Fox character and I immediately jumped on the opportunity to have a chance to interact with him using a muse I had already established. I set up a blog and my BFF was kind enough to design a theme and we’ve been going at it since. It’s been nearly four years now.
WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE ASPECTS OF YOUR CURRENT MUSE:  It’s one of my most favorite and least favorite things about this muse: Wolf’s characterization; he’s incredibly complicated and his alignment is often difficult to gauge. His motivations definitely drive him. He has a very strong sense of justice that is very unique to his person. He’s not evil but he is capable of doing despicable things in the pursuit of his idea of justice. He’s not a hero but he definitely has a heart and is a very empathetic person. Wolf feels for the little guys, but he isn’t often seen helping little old ladies crossing the street. He’s a fun-loving goof, but he’s incredibly quick to anger and prefers to be taken seriously. Wolf is a huge mess of contradictions and it works for him a lot of the time because that’s how real life is. Real people aren’t programmed to respond the same way all the time. Sometimes they contradict themselves: sometimes you expect one thing out of them because of one opinion of theirs or one previous action they made and you end up being completely surprised. It’s one of my favorite things because it’s like sending secret messages; to those that aren’t paying close enough attention, Wolf appears to be a wildcard. But to those that follow him closely, his unpredictable nature begins to make more sense.............At least, that’s what my goal is. x)
WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST INSPIRATION WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING: Music, bouncing ideas back and forth between my close friends (James, Tardy, Nep, King ilu <3), reading, my life experiences -- and for Wolf specifically, Fredryk Phox’s Star Fox-related content. 
FAVORITE TYPES OF THREADS: AAAAAANGST! If not angst, then I’m totally into action. I love threads that are exciting. Being able to write action is like watching a baby exercise his little limbs, spread them out and see what he is capable of doing with them, y’know? It’s good practice for me too because I tend to fall into a literary pattern where I begin to loop with the same type of narrative structure over and over again. Action threads are very verb-oriented and because timing and sequences of events take on a bit more importance, it becomes harder to fall into the habit of typing “he did x while he does y; he does x as y happened”/
BIGGEST STRUGGLE IN REGARDS TO YOUR CURRENT MUSE: Everything. I don’t know what the fuck my problem is but I hold such a high standard for my Wolf (and all my muses, really) and it’s a huge fucking source stress for me because of it. I’m not referring to anyone here in particular but it’s common to for RPers to take Fox or Wolf--or any popular character of a well-known series, honestly--and write them as bare-bones as possible. These kinds of characterization are basic; it’s as though the people behind these versions of Fox or Wolf are building around a cliffnotes version of who these characters are. I see a lot of interpretations that appear as though the writer doesn’t have a strong understanding of the character they’re writing for and thus have been minimized and simplified into very easy-to-understand concepts. I personally find that to be disrespectful to the characters and I really try hard to not be lazy when it comes to my characterization. That said, my dedication to dynamic characters is a huge source of anxiety to me because I always am terrified that I’m working so hard on a character only to be missing the mark completely. My Wolf is a sort of hybrid of three popular characterizations: the dramatic performance we’re given in Star Fox 64/Zero, the powerful presence we unite with in Assault, and the charming, yet incredibly impacting clown that Fredryk Phox’s interpretation of Wolf is known as. I’m always afraid that I’m sloppily mish-mashing these three characterizations into one big unrecognizable blob, or that I’m doing an injustice to Wolf by portraying him far too much like a clown. Is he too goofy? Do people know to take him seriously? CAN they take him seriously? Is he not mean enough? Is he threatening? Is he angry enough? This choice of turning Wolf into a hybrid of three different ideas of who Wolf is often scares me because I’m attempting to appeal to many different people and when someone follows me for one side of Wolf and is subjected to another side of him, I always feel like I’m letting them down. I’m doing my best managing these three themes and deep down, I know they don’t match each other well.
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musingsofrebirth · 7 years ago
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Why I Blame the Other Woman
There are so many articles discouraging blaming the “other woman” in an affair, and it’s a legitimate cause to dissuade someone from doing so. Unless they were actually bestowed with the powers of the Succubus to lure men with their temptress powers, the responsibility ultimately falls on the one who made the promise of love and security in the first place.  But it’s a hard position to take, to forgive, and to let go for so many reasons. I find myself still holding on to so much hate, resentment, and judgement. It all comes down to insecurity, disappointment in other people in general, and I won’t lie, it makes things easier to hate someone you don’t know as opposed to take it out on the person you love.
I’ve really been battling whether internally whether my feelings are justified or petty, whether my anger is directed appropriately, whether there will be anything that will ever change my mind. My hopes in writing my reasons out will be to hopefully make those feelings feel smaller and less overwhelming once they’re out of my head. 
So, in no particular order, why I feel the other woman who invaded my marriage and life is an unforgivable piece of shit:
1.  Pouncing at a low time in our lives I don’t think anyone in their right mind WANTS to believe that the person they loved most in life could ever do anything to hurt them. It doesn’t matter the reasons behind it - the BPD, problems with communication, typical seven-year itch, bad role models. Yes, they all play a big, big role and thankfully are all being addressed now. But at the end of the day, despite the reasons behind it, and whether they were justified or not, a decision was made. And that decision was made because someone else played a role in making my husband feel excited, loved, and wanted when he felt lost. 
Perhaps a decent human being would have taken a step back, or encouraged communication, or have been encouraging, perhaps offer advice to save the marriage. Instead she chose to swoop in at a time of weakness for her own personal gain.
Maybe I should seek solace in the influence BPD had in this situation. In all my readings, I’ve learned about the chronic feelings of emptiness due to the lack of a core sense of identity. That there’s always this struggle to fill up “holes” that someone with BPD may feel is missing from their life. Maybe I should be comforted the books say that many people with BPD seek out new relationships, not necessarily for the positive aspects of the person, or even the experience, but they will just grasp at anything to escape the feeling of emptiness and angst. 
But I don’t feel comforted because all I see is someone who took advantage of someone who was looking for guidance and positivity.
2. The lack of respect for your fellow woman
I do believe in a sisterhood code. To lift other women up, to support each other. That we’re all part of the same team. We’re met with some unique challenges and I have found, through some wonderful friends, that supporting your fellow female is rewarding and beneficial. Where was that here? I wasn’t even a complete stranger. She met me in person, there were email exchanges, text exchanges, apologies, promises to stay away.  How disrespectful, dishonest, and conceited does someone have to be to tell me in their exact words that they will be out of my life, only to go again behind my back? How easily to betray their own words. 
But why should I expect any better treatment if she disrespected her own boyfriend as to cheat on him? How can anyone be viewed as a forthright person when they’re hiding their illicit relationship from all their friends, colleagues, family? 
How would someone ever get past all the lies and secrets and suddenly change from that? 
The level of lies and betrayal that she showed everyone around her shows the lack of character and it’s just disheartening to know that a person I love was ok with that. 
3. The lack of respect to my husband
If I could forgive her for any part of this, perhaps it could be for the first part of the affair. Getting caught up in infatuation, not knowing the circumstances of the BPD, not really knowing how everything was affecting me because I didn’t know yet...there’s a level of ignorance there that I could possibly see justifying the actions between someone who made a mistake and caught up in something versus someone who is truly evil. 
But once all the truth was found out, to know my pain, to know that I was in the hospital, to know what it was costing not only me, but my husband - his confusion and pain, knowing that he was struggling and unsure of what to do, if there is any example of love that’s exactly the time where someone should back the fuck off and let the married man deal with his situation. 
But no, she assumed to know, and write about how she felt she knew my husband better than I did. She assumed he could deal with his depression better than me, assumed that she could bring him no happiness when she really had no clue. 
First off, I will admit that even I don’t and probably will never fully understand the inner workings of my husband’s mind. Between his depression, and his BPD, I accept that I can never fully grasp his pain. While I have my own darkness at times, there is no way I can ever compare it to his, or understand it, or even dare assume I’m an expert in any way. 
I have done my best over the years to be supportive, to listen, to empathize, to read, to educate myself, and even more so, after learning of the BPD diagnosis. Getting my hands on every book I could find, getting on message boards, trying anything and everything to communicate in the best way. 
And this is maybe one of the things that makes me the most upset in all this...and it’s SO ironic and maybe weird, but what gets my blood boiling the most is how this fucking bitch hurt the person I love.
I would think, typically, when you have a conversation that you find out leads a person to suicidal thoughts, when you know a specific conversation led someone to a roof, that maybe, JUST MAYBE, you show some fucking respect and discretion to perhaps being more sensitive to the subject moving forward.
But no, she continued to flaunt herself, flaunt her past, make her digs into his insecurities, as if it were all some big fucking game. 
While I reached out to family, reached out to Josh, begged him for help, begged him to come out and get the next flight because I was scared for my husband’s life and I wanted more than anything for him to just be ok, what did she do to help? How did she reach out? With more pictures of ex-boyfriends and half-hearted attempts to read a book?
And ultimately, this is my biggest hurdle in overcoming all my bad feelings...
Because how, oh God how, would the man I love so much find something desirable here? It kills me that he declared his love to such a despicable person, to someone that was so cruel, and dishonest, and manipulative, and selfish. 
My husband deals with BPD, what’s her excuse? 
And I try not to feel rejected, to re-read all the sentences in the BPD books that it had nothing to do with her or me, it was just filling an emptiness with the warm body that happened to be listening at that point in time. But at the end of the day, he slept with THAT. He chose THAT THING over me. It’s disgusting, gross, and it makes me cringe. And I need to find a way to forgive ALL of it. To move forward. 
I hate that she takes up so much of my time, my head, and my heart. She doesn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve my husband’s love, she didn’t deserve his body, and she certainly doesn’t deserve a second more from me. 
After this post, I will try my damnedest to now let her take anything else from me. Not my thoughts, not my time, not my tears.
To someone that’s a meaningless blip, a gnat, in my otherwise wonderful life doesn’t deserve the time of day. 
So I will try to move forward with strength, and honesty, and hard work, and true effort, and love, deep love in my marriage. Because that’s what makes it true love and what makes you a worthy person.
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