WCOST Chapter 2

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Prologue
Chapter 1


CHAPTER 2

I woke up to the sound of car horns  blaring at the darkness. I hear them honking and honking, then a vast silence. I can't sleep. Not after my relentless thoughts of you and somehow there's this deja vu feeling that I dismiss. I feel like I've been doing this before and I feel like somehow there's this quiet melancholic dirge playing incessantly in my head.

Your tattoos, I remember them clearly now.

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Your back lingers on my palms. The way I held you close and your careful, searching eyes bore through mine. I blew smoke circles in the air, rising towards the ceilings of your apartment. The way you snuggled up close to me and held my hand, underneath the covers that protected our nakedness - this is what is contentment.

We both knew that this was more than sex. The way that I knew that looking through your eyes that mirrors the same unwavering look in yours : we agree amidst our selves that we could only continue on like this. You scoot closer, and I feel your heart pulsing through our skin.

"Fuck, I don't know how you do it but..." I reached out and held her hand underneath the covers. I look to her straight in the face, her eyes glazed and moist. "...And how you make me turned on, but this is right."

"Thanks."

She looked at me with curiosity. Maybe she thinks this is too funny for us, talking all serious and shit. She twisted sideways, so that the covers fell down towards her breasts, and smirked.

"Can't take another round?"

"Only if you wanted to. Up to the challenge?"

"No. I'm getting tired. Besides, I think you already had your fill of me." She then sat up and looked around. She was looking for the clothes we had strewn across the floor in our haste for each other.

"Babe, I had filled you." I grinned, and tossed her her brassiere, which was lying across the side table. She clutched at it in mid-air and quickly put it on.

"Yeah, hard and rough. Just the way we like it." She stood up, bending down, and got into her panties.

"Just the way you like it."

She put on her pants on and shirt on and faced me. She had that content look on her face as she tried to force down her smile.

"Who said anything about not wanting rough sex?" I could see her cocking me that grin in my mind, although she was trying to be complacent.

"Hey, you're going so soon?"

"No more round twos and fives and eights. Or I'll be fucking late to work again." She picked up her satchel and walked away. I hurriedly stood up to accompany her, not even bothering to put something on. She felt me rushing to her as she walked towards the door and stopped, turning.

"Well, I'm going."

"Call you later. And check your phone once in a while."

"You sound like my boyfriend."

"You sound like my mother."

She laughed. "So you fuck your mother hard?"

"Don't make me laugh. Can't you be late for just a little while?"

"No. You know how we end this as always, right?" She opened my front door and walked out.

"Besides, I even don't know why I go back to your bed every night."

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His tattoos were still visible even underneath his clothes. Maybe this was a clearer indication of how I had already memorized every inch of his skin. That's maybe cause we fucked up so much that we forget what we were and what we are: outsiders to each other.

I lie down to bed, again. Grasping at the air and seeing nothing but the images of you roaming in my consciousness. This rationalizing is making me feel like I'm perverted and obsessed of her, which I think I am.

I remember him saying "Why are you staring hard at me?" and looking so fuckably sexy. He turned sideways, revealing his nakedness to me and raised his eyebrows. He was totally leading me on.

"I find it difficult to divert my attention to you naked as it is. Don't make it more difficult by looking at me like that."

I replied. And he grinned that gumless toothpaste commercial grin of his, and reached my hands to put it in his.

I stood up, and let his hand go.

"Not now you horndog. I've still got work to do and I know you're gonna be late at that commercial shoot you have."

"Oh yeah! Thanks for reminding me."

"That's why you're always not going to book more than those measly commercials ads you star in." I pull up my pants and snatch the T-shirt that he hands over from under the sheets. His eyes follow my every move. He stands and moves closer, our bodies just inches away: his naked body across my fully clothed one.

"Can't you at least be fashionably late with me. You know you want it babe."

"I really have to go." I said as I turn towards his door to leave. As I clutch the doorknob in my hands, he pins my body against the door.

"Are you sure?"

I turn towards him, and grab him. He looks to me grinning and I smile back. Yeah, it's totally fucked up but I tried to let myself stop actually kissing him.

"Yes."

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Waking up is hell. There's no similar feeling in the world to waking up and seeing the world for the first time in a day and looking beyond that to see. That you are seeing is divine. That your heart is in pieces is another. That you feel only numbness and emptiness is the best.

I feel nothing, yet I'm continually aware of everything: how the clock ticks, how the silence is harrowing, how this little voice in my head is somehow getting annoying lately. I feel like I'm losing my mind, like there's nothing certain now.

I look up from my desk, and see that I'm alone again. In the office, where I must have slept all night long doing things to forget you. Papers were strewn all across the floor and my editing manuscripts were somehow half wet with either coffee, water or sleep saliva. The office darkens by every minute in my eyes, as though waking up seems to cloud my vision longer and longer.

The ghost of you in my head leaves into the darkness where I stare only at dull white walls and the blaring emptiness ensues. I feel like breaking apart. It's like being in pieces and being tried to be reassembled into something that is whole, but is not.  Feeling like there is something wrong with everything, feeling like there is something lacking : that is how you remind me now. That you are one piece of me left missing.

And is only till now that I realize that I will never be fixed. That there is no reason for me to hope being whole because there is no whole to begin with if you're gone. And that's the saddest realization.

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I fall back, seeing him very perspired and heaving great huge breaths. He cannot keep up with my speed, as I expected he would be. All pure muscle bod of his would naturally lessen his speed.

I sit down the nearest possible bench and laid back, with an aura of bliss and nonchalance. That ought to deter his spirits, trying to beat me again.

He approaches, and all I could see was how his eyes latched on mine - looking at me like I was something "his". It felt good, but it means nothing if we follow our agreement. That all we had was nothing but pleasure for both of us.

He laughed hard when he reached me in the park bench, sitting down completely exhausted and splayed at the whole breadth of the bench. His arms automatically wrapped around my shoulders, and I looked at him with such disgust.

"Your hands are sweaty." I flicked his hands away, he seemingly offended.

"Don't hear you complaining of my sweat when I hold you under me."

"Shut up, you gym rat."

He looked at me with those eyes, making me feel unsure whether he's exhausted or he's unusually chirpy today. He returned his arm back to my shoulders and moved closer - out mouths only inches away.

"You want me to shut me up? I know one way to shut me up, and that involves..."

I smirked. You could play games but not here, when everyone's watching. I doesn't even make matters better that he's one of the most recognizable commercial hunk in tv now.

"You sure you want to do this in public?"

"What? Fuck you? Gladly."

"I wasn't even talking about that, you horn dog gym rat." I raised my eyebrows, suddenly aware of the people looking towards us.

He inched closer, our lips almost touching.

"I could kiss you right now, make them ladies know that you're mine."

"But you wouldn't."

"I would've done it a long time ago, if you weren't so afraid of commitment."

"I'm not afraid. I just don't believe in the gist of it. There's no veracity in thinking people could bind themselves in something long term when we all know we can't even bind ourselves in promises." I stood up. The people who were so awkwardly staring at us suddenly dispersed.

He held my hand longingly. He gestured for me to sit down.

"You look thinner."