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i felt brokenhearted. i was a jumble of feelings. the emotions of a toddler mixed into a 24-year-old woman. flowing mascara and clenched fists.
a forest fire.
i shouldn't have been so angry. we were far from serious or stable, but i was content with what i had.
what we had was a chaos of nightclubs, drunken weekends, and smoke-filled rooms.
i despised drinking and smoking!
i loathed the smell of overpriced perfume and overwhelming clubs.
i stayed, though, for the evenings when he allowed me to choose the color of nail polish and paint his nails.
when i would apply his favorite red lipstick for him while sitting on the bathroom counter.
and my favorite was when i would trace the scars on his ivory back when i would wake up in the middle of the night.
i shrink into the taxi seat, my clothing wet from the rain, and my mascara running. i made an effort to hide my tears by pretending the rain was the cause. the driver didn't give a damn either way.
kid claimed he had no desire to know me. i should have been a fling. a girl that looked pretty on his side. claims that dancing into my storm was a terrible mistake on his part.
eustass, you made ass huge mistake.
introducing me to all of your mates in mistake. i had space in the closet, and you gave me a blasted spare key to your flat. and letting me stay for three years was the worst fucking mistake.
i was poison, he claimed. oh, right. i was completely obsessed the day i was able to taste him. i had liver failure because i was so drunk after having him.
even as the taxi halted at his apartment, the rain didn't stop. streetlights cast a warm glow on the sidewalk.
it was by no means cozy or comforting. i want to throw a brick through his window and my fist begins to shake.
i rummage through my purse, nevertheless, clutching the extra key in my soft hands like a weapon. there is a keychain attached to it. one of the few photographs i had of him. he dreaded taking photos, and i always felt disappointed that we couldn't capture many special moments, but i suppose i could forget him more quickly.
surely, i'm kidding. i would always remember him. everything brings him to mind. even the color red, oh god. a shade! that is really stupid.
someone ought to have put up a warning sign to expose him. from the moment you meet him until the day you pass away, you will painfully ache for him.
i continue walking down the sidewalk in the pouring rain on the chilly winter night. the memories start coming back. on nights like these, we would dance in the rain while mindlessly strolling the streets hand in hand.
the corridors are dark, and my vision is blurry due to the tears that are threatening to run down my cheeks and further smear my makeup.
my hands tremble as i unlock the door as i approach the place that i have visited more frequently than my own flat. my breathing gets labored, and i start to feel as though my lungs are closing in on themselves as the key presses against my fingertips like a knife. i'm about to get a panic attack.
it makes me think of the times he tried to distract me by playing a song on his bass. although he tried, he was never adept with emotions. he would assure me that he was by my side and that he wouldn't let go. he would finish by kissing my forehead and the small of my back.
"y/n?" a quiet voice could be heard. with a sense of apprehension, but also with exhaustion and boredom.
i don't even recall opening the apartment door, but despite that, there i was in the entranceway. the door was swung open behind me/
i cast my eyes to my left and saw a mirror. to make sure i looked nice before i left in the morning, i had kid hang a wonderful full-length mirror. although it irritated him, he still did it for me.
there was a strange woman in the mirror. she didn't resemble the person who was admiring herself out in the mirror this morning and left a kiss after shutting the door.
red lipstick was smeared across her lips and down to her chin. eyes were bloodshot, cheeks were dark from mascara. rain, sweat, and tears-soaked hair stuck to her forehead.
i feared meeting her. i turned my attention back to the person in front of me because i was unable to bear to look at the reflection any longer.
kids roommate. in addition to long white socks, a small-framed pair of glasses, a grey long sleeve shirt, and blue checkered pajamas, trafalgar was standing there in the glimmer of midnight.
i never had a chance to get to know him or meet him. he was a surgeon who put in absurd hours and was never disturbed by eustass kids customs. their lives collided, and it seemed as though they despised one another. they would converse in scoffs, eye rolls, and awkward silences while i was around.
however, it seemed as though kid knew him better than anyone else when he spoke about trafalgar.
i had known trafalgar as kid's roommate. the cold-hearted stranger who never was home. he also didn't really like me. the conversation always remained awkward when he was around, and he never cast a glance my way. i caused him trouble. before this moment, he had never crossed my mind or been a concern in my life.
the moment i stand in the dim lighting of the doorway looking like a forest fire, a storm, a liability.
for the first time in a few hours, i threatened to speak. there was hesitancy, and the wrong word may of caused me to sob.
"i just need to get some clothes... kid will send the rest of my belongings. i'm sorry. i know it's late.
the man in front of me was just staring at me. not out of sympathy or an attempt to fix my issues. he didn't do anything other than stand there holding the coffee cup.
suddenly he began to speak. he sounded uneasy and uncomfortable.
"never mind about the time. you don't need to explain yourself to me; just go get cleaned up."
i just nod. he was right.
reentering his room was painful. my clothing and his were all over the floor, but the bed was made up. my favorite perfume bottle was still on the nightstand, and there were frames with photos of me hanging on the walls. images of me at the beach and concerts. others showed my physique in more revealing ways. it caused rage and embarrassment to fill my features.
i know kid. he won't take a glance at the pictures and reminisce. he won't question his choices or ask me to return. he is the toughest, most stubborn person i've ever met. he'll put up with it and move on, but i had hoped that he would miss my affection and come back for me.
i looked down at the key, which was still in my grasp. in the light, the crimson gloss gleamed. my other hand grabs the bizarre keychain as it hangs down and rips it off. throwing it on the ground.
i place it on the bedside table without doing anything else. the action has a sense of closure that makes my stomach turn.