Not more than strangers✔️

11| h e a r t a c h e

"And if the sky should ever die.
We'd make our own light,
You and I."
~John Mark Green

   "Pierce don't be like that."

   Vile.

   Vile coming up his throat at a pace unknown to him. Every touch and stroke felt so foreign no matter how many times they've had sex... he just couldn't right now. And as much as he felt lonely, he couldn't just go through it, he felt utterly disgusted. He felt sick, angry, annoyed at just about everything.

   "I have a wife and a kid." He sighs under his breath, like looking at her would make the guilt even worse.

   "And?" She pressed, etching forward on the couch as her cleavage remained exposed. Deep down she was boiling and she just wanted him, no talking whatsoever.

    She tried to play it cool, despite the anger her eyes held at Pierce's rejection. He was wasting her time, basically playing with her emotions like a toy, for a minute he's hot and ready for her and the next he's apologetic.

   He moved to sit up, scooting away from her. He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as he furiously wiped his eyes, grounding his wrists into his sockets to stop the overflow of emotion.

    Funmi.

    It's only Funmi he wants.

     He'd made his decision to fix it even if everything's absolute shit right now. Amanda had tried to kiss him yet again, throwing her blouse across the room and in the moment it felt good, he wasn't thinking and for a second the pain wasn't fresh and clear as day.

    But her small breasts weren't round or full, her thin lips weren't plump and undeniably softer than anything he's placed between his lips, her body wasn't like Funmi's. She wasn't Funmi and she would never be.

    Pierce sat on the floor of his living room, watching Amanda like a hawk. "Get out." Pierce eyed the woman as he spat the words caught in his throat.  His voice sounds foreign, hoarse and mostly tired.

    Amanda could only gape at him with the way his mood had changed so rapidly. "Pier-"

     "I said, get out!" He yelled making her flinch. Stray tears escaping the hard exterior of the walls built up so high. She scurried for her shirt, giving Pierce a lasting look as she buttoned up, gaze hard and unforgiving.

"See you at work, Mr. Wilson." Her tone so cold, goosebumps rose to his skin. She leaves, the door rattling at how hard she'd shut it and it's then he feels like he can finally break.

    He slumps, lips parting to let out a loud sigh, he didn't know what to feel, relief, a sense of sadness or just loss.

   He wondered how she was doing, if she was better off, smiling at something her uncle would say as they talked over dinner maybe. She'd quickly forget him, drown in something else to replace the heartache he caused her. He imagined her bright smile and deep honey eyes that sparkle when she was amused. He deduced she was doing better than him and there was no going back from the mess he created.

   She wished the silent laughter coming from the television in the living room could be hers.

   She honestly can't remember the last time she laughed genuinely. Her soul was awry and her thoughts did her no justice every time something she touched reminded her of Pierce.