Only Mine

1

         

My eyes are so heavy from lack of sleep I'm barely keeping them open while standing upright. The combination of both makes it difficult to wait in line at my favorite coffee shop just around the corner from my apartment, but for my necessary morning caffeine shot I make an effort. I'm putting all my hopes in those coffee beans being roasted there to save me from my raging hangover. I guess the only one to blame for feeling this way is me. Well, my best friend Hanna does take some of the blame; she can handle her liquor far better than I do, so doing shots with her on a weekday is not one of my brightest ideas.

The smell of freshly roasted coffee is wafting through the air and it smells delightful, my whole body buzzing at the anticipation of tasting it. I know, the words of a pure addict, but coffee is my lifeline. And at the moment just about the only thing that can improve my hazy brain.

Half sleeping on my legs and waiting for the line to move, a guy in front of me catches my eye.
His loud conversation on the phone with his 'best buddy Joe' is hard to ignore, and the vivid description of last night's party he attended just about gives me another painful poke to my brains. The way his mouth turns up in a smirk annoys me beyond being normal for a stranger, but I don't even have enough energy to analyze my hostile thoughts. Considering he is quite cute, I'm sure there is a girl-story behind all his bragging.

Before I can shut my brain out, my mind starts wandering to what might put that smirk on his face (and here I thought I'm temporarily brain dead). I start zoning out, thinking when the last time a smirk like this was directed my way.

My ex-boyfriend Scott, ex since six months ago, wore this devilish smirk on his face in the sexiest way possible. I used to love it. Little did I know how much that smirk was actually mocking me. I can still hear the words of his best friend telling me I need to wake the hell up, because he is cheating on me every chance he gets. His actual best friend betrayed him because he felt bad for me being so naïve.
I really thought I was over it, I mean, come on, it's been six months already. And we dated only for a good year and a half. Yesterday however, I had an epic relapse.

My eyes close down at the painfully embarrassing moment I recall from last night. I'm such an idiot when I drink.

I saw Scott in the same club as Hanna and I went to yesterday and we ended up chatting on the dance floor. We kept our conversations light and on a neutral ground ever since the whole drama of our breakup happened.
I may be stupid, but I don't like holding a grudge. When he approached me a month after separating to truly apologize for everything, I forgave him and we decided to remain somewhat friendly.
So this was me yesterday being friendly. Until I got wasted like a champ and Hanna and I ended up taking a ride home from Scott. Of course, Hanna was dropped home before me. I don't know at what point we decided that discussing our terrible relationship choices is a good idea in our current state, but it happened. And after a few heated comments, I broke. And I mean complete and utter breakdown. I sobbed in his arms for good ten minutes, asking him why did he have to hurt me so badly.

The sound of the doorbell pulls me momentarily out of my thoughts and I can't help but cringe at the memory of my crying mess yesterday. I had a hard time getting over him, but I was fine now for quite some time. I'm truly a bloody idiot when I get drunk.

My headache is just building up with last night's memories and I turn away annoyingly from the guy talking on the phone in front of me. But I can't block my thoughts anymore. Last evening comes crashing back.

Scott was truly in shock looking at me sobbing in his arms, and the only way he knew to calm me down was to kiss me. He held my head with both of his hands and pulled me in for the roughest kiss he has ever given me. And I responded instantly, without a second thought. Frustrations from everything that happened poured in the contact of our bodies let us deal with the current state the only way we knew how.
We were pulling and then pushing at each other, biting harshly on our lips, neither of us backing down. His hands moved to my back crushing me to his chest in almost painful, but agonizingly heated embrace. When his hand slipped under my shirt and his rough hands connected with my feverish skin, I finally managed to broke out of the haze and push back, breaking our entangled bodies in the process. We were panting heavily, looking at each other with shock and pure dark lust. And then my brain finally caught up what was happening - it sobered me up instantly.
He reached for my arm in an attempt to pull me back, but I was beyond angry with myself to let things get even that far. I wished my reasonable mind would show up sooner. It was probably the first time in six months that I realized he wasn't as unaffected about our breakup as I thought. But I really didn't want to let my thoughts go down that road.
I tried to reason with him and telling I don't want to ever be involved like this with him again despite my little crying confessions. After talking about it he agreed on not taking things further. He knew we were a crash-and-burn kind of combination. We always were. It wasn't like he wanted to start something again, either. It was just the way we always handled our pointless discussions before. In bed.
We hugged and before I stepped out of the car, he pulled me back one more time and his sad eyes searched mine before speaking.