Listening So Close

~I listen intently because silence is not unlike the monster of the inner workings of my mind. In fact, I'm fairly sure that they enjoy each others company.~



Where we left off? Oh yes...


Sunlight. Organic, golden and pristine filtered into the cramped room through cracked blinds like an insect might find its way through a crack in the wall. The room was white, the light filled up every corner now, finding and squirming its way into even the tiniest of nooks and crannies it seemed.

This pained him. It was far too early to be woken up; and by the sun of all things. His alarm wasn't set to go off until ten. Hell, his heart didn't even start beating till eight and he was still skeptical about whether or not six in the morning even existed... He looked about. This wasn't his room. Nor was it his clock. Or his bed.

The body beside him stirred but continued to slumber soundly. He looked about, running his fingers trough a mess of brown hair, coming to rest on the back of his head; long fingers gently massaging his pounding skull. Her, the woman next to him, she was lackluster at best, he thought. There was nothing special about her. She was pretty, sure, and she didn't snore. Her skin was positively flawless. She glowed. But so what? In hindsight, it was this almost generic beauty that made her plain to him. Also, it was probably the reason for which he found himself where he was now. Lying naked in in the house of a person whose name he could scarcely remember. Vicky? Veronica?

"Fuck," he whined, swinging his legs off of the bed and pushing away the unseasonably thick bed coverings. As it turned out, he wasn't entirely naked, his boxers remained, which was reassuring.

"Where are you going?” she stretched an sat up as well. She, on the other hand, was very much disrobed.

He didn't reply, but instead began to gather up his clothes which had been discarded hastily beside the bed. She chuckled breathily and wrapped her arms about his neck, pressing her bare breasts up against his back. He bristled.

" You probably don't even remember my name, do you?"

He shook his head "no." There was no sense in lying, or taking a wild guess.

"Good, because I don't remember yours either." Had they even exchanged names? He felt his heart sink. He felt... Dirty.

She laughed again. "I have to say, I expected you to be at least a little more talkative after last night." she sounded only mildly disappointed. Like a mother who had failed to convince their child to eat broccoli. Only a minor defeat, really.

He eased on his jeans and a t-shirt. Wordlessly, he stood, the girl following suit, as if he had ordered her to, and held on to him again as he tried to navigate his way through the loft. She unlatched herself again at the kitchen.

"You leaving?"

Was it that obvious? "Yeah."

"Here. Wait."

She rummaged through her refrigerator, bending down in such a way that he could not help but stare, ignoring the two quiet clicks behind him.

"I guess I'm all out," she said "I wanted to give you something to help you forget me." she smiled a tiny smile at him. For the first time, she seemed sincere. Her previous demeanor all but abandoned.
He smiled back and turned to leave. But when her turned, he met not a door, but a wall. A wall of muscle. And, not long after, a wall of sheer, unadulterated pain.