Layla comes over at midnight.
The silhouette of her body gleaming in the darkness.
"Don't look."
"Why not?"
"Just don't do it."
Max closes his eyes.
The touch of her skin against his igniting fireworks.
He needs to see her.
"Layla."
The shape of her breasts.
"Yes?"
The dent of her belly button.
"I want to look."
The moonlight illuminating her skin.
"You can't."
The curves of her hourglass.
"I need to look."
He cannot hold back any longer.
"Please don't."
Max opens his eyes.
"I told you not to."
Opens them to black patches and torn skin.
Anger boils his blood.
"Shut up and fuck me."
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YOU ARE READING
Unrequited
Short Story"If there was such a thing as love, he thought. She was love." __________ A short, fucked up, unrequited love story between Maxwell and Layla.
