Where I Was Before You

27. here i go again

I was walking to the bathroom down the hall, trying to not fall over, as my legs were still waking up. I checked my phone: 14 Feb 8:30 am. God, it's only been 5 days since this whole thing started. I feel like I've been living like this forever. I was getting used to all the little quirks of this sort of marriage-y home life I had adopted. getting up, making food, going to work, coming home to my wife, y'know. The usual. I can't imagine a time in my life where I would have to live by myself. I would go mad. So easily. I needed to be entertained, to be checked up on. It sounded very pathetic, but that was the truth. Kel could back me up.

I walked to the bathroom door, turned the knob and pushed it open, still looking at my phone. My heart almost leapt out of my chest when I say Freddie standing there, facing away from me, but obviously using the toilet. I didn't even hesitate. I screamed "I'M SORRY!" And slammed the door, running downstairs. That couldn't have been more awkward if I tried. I walked over to the kitchen as if it was a sort of hiding place, and tried to catch my breath. Oh my god, did that just happen? I sigh, knowing he would come downstairs any moment and I would have to explain why I ran away like that. I'm such a f*cking dork, and not at all in a good way. I was one of those annoying hunched over kids who just stared at their phone all day. I didn't even need to feel my hand on my chest to know how fast my heart was racing. I had just walked in on Freddie pissing. Wow. I know he was probably laughing right now or is planning to make some sexual innuendo once he gets down here, acting like it's such a joke to him. But it really wasn't for me, it REALLY, wasn't.

I hear his heavy footsteps come down the stairs, slow and deliberate. F*ck you Freddie. I heard the steps land at the bottom, and after a few painstaking seconds, the footsteps follow the track I took and gradually become louder as they moved toward the kitchen. When I swear my heartbeat was so fast that it couldn't rise even if I tried, I heard them come into the kitchen and stop. I was turned around so I couldn't see the entrance, I wasn't doing anything. I definitely looked very stupid, but I couldn't look at him. I heard him clear his throat from behind me. And it sent a shiver down my spine. Here it comes...

"So, did you like what you saw?" He remarked. In that usual Freddie mocking tone that made me want to punch him. On instinct, I turned around, ready to make a snappy come back, but was very taken aback. Freddie was only wearing a shirt...

No, he wasn't naked from the waist down, he was wearing underwear. Thank god. But apart from that he only had on a button up shirt that he had left undone. Revealing his chest hair.. and his stomach. I couldn't help but look down, and see the outline of something that I'm sure you could do without a description of. My face went red, and I saw Freddie smile. I gulped and tried so hard to look away, but I couldn't. My eyes were glued, and he knew it. He started to inch closer to me. I wanted to move away, but my feet were glued too.

"W-what.." I study his chest, his perfect chest. That I can't have. Keep telling yourself that. I can't have it, it's not mine, no matter how much it seems that way. Freddie looks down at me, and I now realise what I'm wearing. I don't consider myself a sexy person, at all. Or even minutely attractive. That's the main reason why I wear such baggy clothes. But this particular baggy cloth happened to be a thin, oversized t-shirt that Lance didn't want anymore. I used it as pjs. And I as well wasn't wearing any pants, and conveniently, no bra or undershirt either. I usually put them on before I get up, but it was so hot last night, and the whole toilet fiasco really sent my head spinning. So I didn't even think to. I immediately wanted to cover myself up, and I tried to pull down the already long t-shirt to at least get halfway down my thighs. But of course, it wouldn't budge much.

"You ran out on me." He spoke softly, grabbing my hand, and slowly lifting it to his chest. I felt a bubbling sensation in my stomach that I had felt many times before, but never this intense. I looked up to his eyes, and then down to his chest. I could feel his skin, the heat of his chest. I didn't even struggle, I just started to breathe heavier as I was frozen at this moment. Stop. Please stop.

"I- I was embarrassed." I choked up, feeling a lump in my throat. He grabbed my other hand and placed it around his back, and the feeling got stronger. I didn't want to let go. I never ever wanted to let go. But you have to, you can't. He doesn't really feel this way about you. It's all fake lust and payment. He's paying me. That's all this is. But I'm so close that I can smell his breath, and I don't even care if it's bad. I pull myself in closer, and he smiles, his predatory grin, and leans in to kiss me on the neck.

"You don't need to be embarrassed dear." Dammit. No. Freddie! NO, NO, NO! He kisses my neck and I feel like I'm melting. My brain starts to spin into a whirlpool of chaotic thoughts and feelings. Mostly lust. But also hatred. Freddie, I swear to f*cking god if you don't get your hands off me. I knew this shirt was thin, but I didn't think it was that revealing, not enough to provoke this at least.

"Freddie.." I mumble, but it sounds more like a moan, and Fred tries to pick me up and carry me out to the couch. I want to let him, I want to go with him anywhere.

"Freddie!" I protest again, but it just sounds more passionate, and Fred starts to kiss me more. Ugh god how I hate you. He puts me on the couch and starts to continue what was interrupted the other day.

"Oh, Mandy.." He moans, and I never want to let him go. The feeling is so strong now I can hardly focus on anything else. I try to search for anything, anything at all that I can use to stop this. Any tiny little ounce of energy or will power I may have. I keep my hands around his back and start clapping at his half off shirt. I want it off. I want it off now. I pull my hands in while Freddie is just starting the get lower than my shoulders with his kisses, and I place them on his chest. Feeling and savouring it one last time.

"Oooh," I let out one more, painstaking moan, before I push him up and off me with all of my strength. And I'm more than shocked when I open my eyes and see Freddie on the ground, looking up at me, confused and out of breath.

"What?" Escapes from his lips out of a haze of confusion I assume he's experiencing. I sit up, and can still feel the ghostly weight of him on top of me. I never want to forget that feeling.

"This needs to stop." I say, reluctantly, and in a very pathetic 'commanding' voice. I feel my lip quiver, so I bite it but realise how bad that looks. I look down at Freddie, and down at his... I decide to stick with his eyes.

"What?" He giggles, drugged up a little on that whole exchange.

"This! It's not fair to you, it's not fair to me, and it's absolutely not fair to whoever you're seeing back home." I sputter out. Fred repositions himself and looks like he's really trying to understand what's going on.

"Not fair to.." He trails off. And his gaze trails off as his face goes slightly red, but not in the same noticeable and embarrassing way mine does. "But Mandy, I'm not even-."

"Promise me! That this isn't going to keep happening.." I stumble over my words, and you can tell I really don't want to mean them. Freddie scoffs. "Freddie.." I say, in a very tired and defeated voice.

"Yes, no I understand. Completely, that's uh... obviously not what you want. I'm sorry." He says before buttoning his shirt back up and walking toward the stairs to go get changed I presume. I feel the same sharp stabbing pain in my chest. Like the one, I felt the other day, but I ignore it. I'll go to the doctors, after all, this is over if it keeps happening. Goodbye chest. You'll still exist in my memories and fantasies. It's better this way, I have to keep telling myself. Before Freddie reached the stairs, he turns around, with his shirt buttoned, and looks at me once more up and down.

"But, darling. You have to stop dressing so damn f*cking sexy."