It was past midnight when Renji got home. He's expecting later than that, but a particular person spoiled the dinner he had planned and went straight to the bathroom to cool himself under the blasting shower. A few hours ago, he was in a restaurant, five-star, and waited for three fucking hours dressed in a well fine garb for impression but itching underneath and cursed, he should have worn jeans instead of a suit, while staring at an empty plate opposite to his. Son of a - three hours! And the worst part, no one came, not even one phone call to say she'll be late, or dead, or few irritating words like "throw yourself to a fucking goddamn cliff, I don't care!" - none of that, but still he waited.
For his wife.
Ex-wife!
He was a fool and he knew it, and while thinking that, he wondered what the Landlord would say if they saw the hole he'd created on his bathroom wall.
Yeah, right, as if he gives a flying fuck.
After that spoiled dinner, he went straight to the bar. Because he needed it, because his day sucks since daybreak, and his homicidal tendencies started to kick in anyway, so, definitely, the need of a fellow human being to talk to was his 911, and despite the stinking crowded place, the bartender happens to agree, listening to his monotonous bullshits while polishing a glass using the back of an apron. Renji knew it was a waste of time, but had no other choice to consult an on-the-spot therapist with no opposing manner and can accept countless prose of cuss, that all he had to do is to pay the eight shots of tequila he consumed as the session fee. His friends were always there for him, but he's the one who made the choice to blurt it all out on a pretentious bastard, just to avoid the pain of constant nagging.
Renji turned the nozzle off and stepped out of the shower without drying himself, ignoring drips of water lining the tiled floor and opens the cabinet, took three tablets of anti-depressants from a small orange vial and tossed it into his mouth like peanuts from a bowl. He then paced the corridor, straight towards the kitchen, completely naked, trying to summon his appetite and open the fridge, winced when saw its contents: fucking re-heats. He slumped into his favorite chair in the living room, grabbed the remote and turned the TV. It took him for a while to realize he's pressing the channel button repeatedly for the last five minutes before tossing the damn thing away.
Frowning, he snatched the can of beer from his side, glanced at his watch and groaned. 2AM. He placed the beer to his forehead, pleading to make the mild headache go away so he can sleep. The moisture of the can dripped to his nose, making him more irritable, and wiping away with the back of his hand. I want to go to bed, I want to go to bed, I want to go to... he keeps on saying, like chanting, but the image of the bed never came.
He sighed and opened his eyes, narrowed as he saw an image of a woman, her brown eyes smiling back at him from the picture frame. At first Renji beamed his lips, remembered those painted lips teased him till he was undone, but when the image blurred before him, and the wetness of his tears rolled down his cheeks, his right hand swayed abruptly, tossing the frame away, crashing to the floor.
It's been six months since his life changed, and since then he'd done nothing but but. He speaks in small sentences now while communicating, blaring out sarcasms if not bitter. His demeanor slipped, his temper shortens, his apartment stinks! He began to develop a talent in Chemistry for mixing anti-depressants and sleeping pills. Nobody will ever believe if someone says, "Renji Abarai envied by his peers before". He had it all, a career, a wife, a life. Now everything has collapsed right in front of his eyes. He deprived the outside world, and kissing Jack followed by Xanax is the only thing he could think of for a cure.
Renji had a life and it was beautiful.
But his life filed a divorce six months ago.
His friends said it was not his fault. They said he was just doing his part as a husband - by giving her what she needs. However, if he was doing his part then why there was another man involved, sleeping on the other side, his side, of their own bed... with his wife.
أنت تقرأ
Bleach Fanfic: Hush
قصص الهواة"Do you believe there's life after death..." There was a man standing beside the stone grave whose name he fully ignored, watching a group of people not too far from him, wearing their own version of somber faces as the priest mouthed the proverbs o...
