Hell Sweet, Kayla

42

2:35am

My eyes stay glued on the clock hanging beautifully on the plain white wall like a house wife waiting for her drunk husband to get home.

Gosh, I sound crazy.

The open glass doors of the balcony invites the chilly wind into the room feeling goose bumps appear underneath the silk nightgown I have on.

It has been hours since I stumbled out of the party in hurt giving poor Malik a shocker; precisely four hours twenty-seven minutes and nine seconds. But who is counting?

Picking up my phone, I search for Malik contact, then texting. Sorry I ruined your evening.

With that I turn off my phone not ready to answer questions I know hunts his thoughts concerning the turn of event that took place hours ago.

My heart felt as if being squeezed between two trucks and I am in no condition to speak to him ever since he dropped me off.

I could not sleep, tossing around the bed wearily till I got up for some air simply because once I close my eyes I see her lips on him, perfect, beautiful… right.

And I ask myself, how did I get here?

Like how did everything get by so fast without me realizing it? So hard and quick.

How did I go from getting attracted to the green eyed Italian to falling in love within a span of months with my dominant.

Making such a fool of myself and getting caught up in the moment. It was only meant to be sex… just sex.

When he called to see me aside rendezvous sex-meet I gave excuses to myself for the attention Zayn gave to me even though it was clear he wants more from me.

Something my heart long yearned for but my head was not fully wrapped around the possible scenario that Zayn and I can be more than sex partners.

Like he confessed, he has never had anything other than a platonic dominant sex with his submissive.

Why is my own different?

Why did he crave my time and attention so much? Why did he make me open up myself to him, bask in my company when we are not fucking?

Make me see things, desire things… feel things that wasn’t meant to be so.

Zayn did not see what I saw these past few months, or maybe he did doing what he did best. Hiding.

But I know what I saw and I saw it vividly, tried so hard for him to open up about himself, his family…. He did not.

He rather shunned the topic telling me it was none of my business and only needed me for sex.

I knew better, so I kept mute and let him ride on his ego all the while endangering my heart in the process.

Hoping one day he will express himself and let love set it. If not me, someone else.

Guess he was right after all, Zayn only needed me for sex and nothing more which tonight speaks highly of it.

Not as his therapist, nor as a lover; just a submissive who can fuck him whenever and wherever.

I am just an excitement who got caught in his webs of deceit.

The sad truth is that I wanted so bad to believe I can be the one to change Zayn, get him to see life beyond balance sheets and ledgers.

When he reached out to me to tell him about his bad day at the office, get me my favorite flower, walk with me in the park wearing a huge baseball cap so no one will recognize us together, I thought I was making progress.