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You take a short glimpse towards Egypt, who is slowly slipping down against the wall to sit himself next to you. You haven't always been fond of him but he's the most caring person you could ever find out of everyone. It irks you at every moment you could remember of the two of you. The coup had been a success, which washed a wave of pride that shakes you whenever you remember the very same day. It had been awhile now, but you could feel that same feeling wasn't there to stay any longer as the other man's finger snaps making a loud & disturbing sound to your ears.
"What's on your mind?," he asks, whilst he lights a cigar & pushes it towards your cheek—picking at the thickness of your flesh, ash tips from the cigar, leaving a black-ish spot on your face. You try to stay as neutral as possible when you are near Egypt but sometimes you feel like he’s doing it on purpose. You know he wouldn't think twice of hurting you (maybe he would though).
His eyes seem to lose their light as he reverts back to his original posture, but he seems to be studying your mannerisms as he seeks at your body. You can't tell if he ever wants anything from you, you just know that you are damned from the day you chose to have a merger with him—you can't blame anyone but yourself. Your eyes narrow at his observations as you lie back, facing the other side of the apartment hall. His apartment was quite claustrophobic— from the littlest thing, the odor of the smoke that he scatters around his place tugs onto your clothes, making you have a smell of rosemary. You felt that something was bound to happen in this place, right here.
He doesn't hesitate to pull you onto the ground, the fabric of his short sleeved suit rubbing against yours. You don't resist, naturally this would make you want to fight him but gosh— it was hard when he was someone you’ve admired ever since you could remember. His lips lie on yours as he kisses gently. He seemed so lonely for someone who could be so ‘easily loved’ , your body doesn't exactly react as your nervousness seemed to disappear in thin air. All you could do was lie on the ground as he slid his hand under your back, the feeling of his palm against your bare back— giving you an odd yet consolidating feeling, as he yet retreats. He doesn't even think about looking at you. He knows it's disgusting & filthy but he doesn't care for all he knows about—he never learned to care. The feeling of his lips still linger on yours for some reason you couldn’t really put your finger on. He’s still staring. He lies a finger lazily on the collar of your blouse that lies underneath the suit, & stares, you never really know what he wants. Maybe he wants you for a change. It gets harder to breathe when his face is so close to you—perhaps you love him & he loves you (he doesn’t & wont ever consider you humane), something to lie your mind off a bit from the fact that he’s actively trying to influence you in another way.
It’s hard to say where he lies in between your relationship, he can’t be a friend, nor can he be someone to lean on given his demeanor. It makes you quite anxious when he pulls you in for another kiss—his fingers grasping for the bone under your stomach as his glove-covered hands moved against your abdomen, the fabric rubbing against your nakedness as his lips lying on your for longer then you've thought. You miss it when his lips part from yours, the feeling of sheer comfort leaving you as he hugs you—as if you aren't anything more than a captivating thrill to Egypt.
“If it makes you feel any better. I do like you, don’t get your thoughts mixed”. He was lying as you can feel the tears in your eyelid out of anger(the other eye being gone), suffice as try your best to push it down. He always lies but for some reason this time it feels like he’s doing it on purpose. You close your eyes to try & imagine what it would be like without his sickening presence as a person around you, it gets harder to imagine when he’s all you’ve ever wanted. He doesn’t say anything more to your reaction. His lips just tug at a sorry grin, pitying you in some kind of way.
“I don’t like this game of us constantly hinting at a relationship”. Your voice cracks as you can feel yourself trembling almost.
“It’s not a game”. He once again tugs at your constant vulnerability, you can’t help but grit your teeth silently as his hand lies against the back of your collar. It’s helpless & you both(especially Egypt) know it. As you lie your back against the unevenly patterned wallpaper you can’t hold but take a glimpse at him. No other aspect of him can hide his underlying animosity that grows towards you as a whole. It constantly clouds your mind.
You lie your back against his legs, your soft curls that stretch to the end of your head slightly coiling back on his thigh, he takes short notice of the gesture, his hand curling around your neck—seeping his nails under your wrinkled collar , trailing his fingers atop them, your body somewhat flinching at it as his 2 sole fingers caress your neck, annoyed in a way. He then lights another cigar, his lips parting as he takes another slow drag tirelessly, his chest lowers as he exhales—whilst he lays his other hand against the metal of his cross that lies on his chest, grasping it until it stabbed his palm, imprinting it lightly in his flesh.
He offers you a cigar, commanding in a way as his breath hitches.
“Cigar? I know you like the taste, you are just not in the right mindset, surely you have a knack for my cigar”. He smiles dazingly at your face. You nod lightly, out of fear. Nonetheless he takes the cigar out of his mouth, & puts it in yours whilst his eyes concentrate on the way how your lips curled around it, the aftertaste of his cigar residing in your mouth sure felt quite intimate for something so stupid for him. The cigar lies in your mouth for awhile before Egypt takes it out & takes another drag of it once again.
You can feel his body against yours once again, although this time he seemed complex. He wanted more out of what you had to offer for him. Your body doesn't resist as once again your thoughts are too clouded by his perspective of you. You try to enjoy it but your body can’t—it can’t & you can’t help but give in to the other man’s actions against your flesh. You feel your mouth subsiding in saliva, preferably a near-vomit like feeling. You push the feeling that resides all in your tastebuds down in vain & close your eye, breathing slowly as you can still feel his hand grasping the back of your scalp, his nose against yours hindering a slight uncomfortableness in the edges of your curls as you lay upon the floor, being suffocated with how much pleasure he had inflicted upon your body. You try to shrug it off but every time the feeling gets harder to ignore as your flesh nitpicks at the feeling of his flesh against yours constantly reminding you of how vulnerable you get in front of him.
"Now, how do you feel?". His fingers intertwine with yours lightly. Chuckling wryly.
"I feel fine". You say as you can feel a bitter feeling emerge in your eyes, one of tears. You fairly don't know how to react to him, you love him(or at least you consider that you do)
"You aren't". He retorts, his eyes narrowing at your subtle features; but he doesn't seem to care as much as you imagined he would.
He contemplates something about you for a minute or two, his eyes concentrating on your mannerisms they lie on the curves of your neck, looking at the vacant mole that is on your neck-bone. You can't tell if he's actually intrigued or he feels a helplessness towards the bond the two of you hold. Nonetheless he'll stare at you no matter what.
Sometimes you wish you he could hold you tightly, never letting go; assuring you that you'll be okay & that you don't have to worry about anything else(but there's always something to worry about no matter how hard you shove it down your throat).