The trouble with drugs is that no matter how much pain and misery they put you through, they become a part of you. And you will always want to go crawling back.
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h i s p r i n c e s s
"But what I fall?"
"You won't."
"But what if I do?" I persist, grabbing onto a sturdy piece of rock.
"That's not my problem." Aaron laughs.
"Man, fúck you." I giggle, but continued to climb anyway. The hard rock was warm against my soft skin and easy to grip. He was right; climbing the side was fairly easy, as long as I copied Aaron's tracks and didn't look down. Once we reached the halfway point, there was a little ledge that Aaron helped pull me up to. I realized just how high we were and my mind swooshed.
"Now where are we going?" I sigh, sweaty and exhausted. Aaron's natural athleticism frustrated me. He stood, unaffected, while I felt like I was going to pass out. But the again he's a boxer and exercises regularly while I refuse to do jumping jacks in P.E.
"You'll find out."
"Aaron!"
"A'ight, a'ight," he laughed again. "It's a two-minute walk from here, we almost there."
"I'm counting."
"Have fun."
"I will."
"A'ight."
"Cool."
After two minutes and thriteen seconds of counting out loud and Aaron telling me to "Stop being so fúcking annoying", we reached the top of the cliff. The grass was green and untamed; plagues of yellow flowers and weeds took over the surface. In front of us and way down below was the crystal blue ocean and people sunbathing on the sand. Because we were so high, they looked as tiny as ants.
Aaron took a seat on on the edge, letting his timberland boots dangle over. The thought of me doing that gave me a whiplash. I have a terrible fear of heights.
I sat next to him, folding my legs instead, eyes avoiding the near hundred-foot drop.
"Why'd you bring me here?" I asked, looking at him.
Aaron was so beautiful that it wasn't fair. The blue sky and ocean couldn't compete with his eyes, framed by thick lashes and perfectly tanned skin that reminded me of honey. His rosy lips were relaxed, quiet.
Aaron's hair was trimmed low, but still unruly. There wasn't a single strand that didn't seem to loop up and swirl around another one.
