DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #168 - sعx type thing

* EXPLICIT sex content. read at your own risk, and please don't mind that it's so poor written. clownerella's forte clearly ain't smut*

فيزا

Sean and I spent a bit of time snuggling in bed like the average, unproblematic lovebirds, and despite the pain in his gut and the sore, open cut under his knuckles, he tried to slide a hand into my trousers and touch me, at some point ... but I didn't give him an inch. More like, I didn't let him give me any inch, although he wouldn't have said no to that: I found a way to sit him down, bribing him with boobies of course, and I just did what any failed doctor, actual veterinarian girlfriend would've done. Which means, I loaded his hand over my lap, I cleaned his open cut from bloodstains with a gauze and peroxide, I let him curse me all the way through the procedure, and in the end, I just wrapped his hand like a present with gauze and surgical tape. I told him to keep that hand to rest because he's gonna need it for tonight's show, he told me that 'he can't keep his hands to himself when I'm around' ... and after a bunch of bantering and giggles, and after I told him that he gotta heal and be in his best shape to provide for Syria and I, he laughed his ass off, began to hump my leg like a horndog, and begged me to get into my nurse outfit for 'scientific purposes'. I told him that I had other 'scientific' priorities over fornication, although fornication is very scientific, I kindly reminded him that I'm a doctor, not a nurse... and when I removed his shirt and began to give away hints of wanting to rub healing ointment over the bruise on his stomach, his aura changed, and his playfulness gave way to heaviness and... withdrawal from words.

Sean is one moody guy, and I know it. I shouldn't be surprised by the fact that five minutes ago, he was drooling over me like a dog on a bone, talking about wanting to fuck me in my 'nurse outfit', as if I were even a nurse to begin with.. and now he's all curled up in a ball in bed, shirtless, using his own arm as a pillow, silent as he's never been before in my presence, and pretty much distanced from me. That mood change was quick as fuck and pretty unexplainable, if you ask me. And if I have him well figured out, and I think I do, he's behaving this way for two reasons: first one, he's still fucking pissed and willing to kill Gerry, and he just wants to be left alone for the sake of better planning his homicide and his burial. Second, he's humbled by the fact that I've done something nice to him, he's come across as the one in need and he absolutely hates that, in virtue of the self assured man that he is... and goodness, I just hope that he ain't holding something against me for as little as loving him and wanting to take care of him. But judging by the fact that I'm rubbing his back, silently because I don't want to fuck this up with words, and he ain't even turning my side to look at me and see how worried for him I am, I'm brought to think that maybe, he wouldn't even like me to be here now.

He's no easy, he has these moments in which he zones out and doesn't seem to care about anything, à la the world may be falling but I'm too busy dealing with my own mind to give a fuck. He holds everything inside and tries to get away with his own thoughts and emotions by cracking jokes and doing the cryptic prankster, until he just gets weak and sends everything and everyone to fuck ... and it makes him an extremely hard one to handle or to read through. Sometimes I don't know how to behave with him, especially when he's in a mood and doesn't even acknowledge my presence... but I know what I was signing up for when I chose him, I love him for everything he is, and I'd choose him a thousand more times, all over again, if necessary. Talk about love, to say it à la Van Halen...

I sigh out loud, and under the influence of my own thoughts, I stand up from the bed, and I head to the door, thinking that I'll be back at Sean when he'll be feeling less low and reclusive and mysterious about it. At the end of the day, every god damned human in the world has these moments in which they just wanna be left alone for five minutes, or maybe even for an entire day. I am human, and I have these moments too, pretty often if I gotta tell it like it is. Sean is human, just a little moodier than the average human, and I respect and stand with his need to be left alone for as long as he thinks is necessary to feel better with himself. Looking at him now, harmless as a baby but with fists clenched like he'd throw them if he could, sweating, cursing and letting go of all the pent up anger in his body with semi shakes, I understand what's going on with him... and sigh even louder than before. My man, my love and my heart, the one I'd take a bullet for, is having a whole adrenaline outflow because of that fucking stupid altercation with his guitar player buddy that he didn't even start himself. He beat the fuck out of him and got beat some in return, and now his body is slowly, not so easily adapting to the more peaceful environment. It's just him, his rage and I now, we're all gathered up on the bed... and oddly enough, I'm staying super lucid and calm through it. I've got this.