Sex Tape [Hemmings]

fourty three

Jo

        I had been gone for a total of eleven minutes, and already felt distraught. I couldn't really say I was gone, since the second I left the sorrow filled house, I came to realization that I had no money what so ever.

Trecking along the back streets of Vegas did not appeal to me, so I ended up dropping my bag at the side of the house, setting myself up against the rough bricks.

I should be crying. I had braced myself and was preparing for tears to endlessly pour down my face. My vision should be blurry and my eyes swelling shut. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the fact I had cried so much lately, I had nothing left in me to cry, but I wasn't. I felt as if I should be, but I was fine.

Perfectly fine.

My heart, on the other hand, was shattered into a million tiny pieces, and I was sure it would be staying that away for quite a while.

I knew Luke was a liar and manipulative, but I truly did believe him when he said he loved me. He did, right? He told me he loved me.

I would have thrown myself further into the ground contemplating on whether Luke loved me or not until I heard my name being called over and over, their voice rough and filled with sadness. Moments later, a shadow clouded my view, light droplets of rain falling onto the tall figure.

I expected him to say something, yet he didn't. Instead, to my surprise, he sat down next to me, leaving a clear space between the two of us.

"I love you." He spoke, his voice barely at a whisper. As badly as I wanted to look towards him, I fought against it. The second I would look, I would fall under pressure. I would feel bad for Luke, and that wasn't what he deserved.

"He was right," He muttered. "Michael." A soft whimper escaped my lips, tears threatening to spill. "Everything he said was true. At first, it was for the money. I didn't know you, it meant nothing, but you listen to me Johanna. I want five minutes of your time, and if you don't want anything to do with me, I will book you a flight back home." Luke sighed, and I could imagine his hand running through his hair.

"Love," he whispered, which he seemed to be telling himself more then me. "Is open to interpretation, but follows the same principles everywhere, irrespective of everything else. You either win or loose in love, there is no bridge in between, and I decided I had lost, lost to myself."

The wind began to pick up, causing a chill to rise on my bare arms. Luke had noticed, hesitant to sit next to me, then continued.

"Love is a four lettered, misinterpreted word that get's people's hopes up. Everyone thinks there in love when their just in love with the thought of being in love, a pure figment of our imagination. Before you I had no sense of recognition for that word. Love was completely blind in my world, and you changed that Johanna."

Rain droplets began falling rapidly, instantly soaking the ground we were sitting on.

"I took it in slowly. Taking it into my body. Understanding the full recognition of what love truly was. It took my body a hell of a time to get used to that stupid, ironic fuzzy feeling. Whenever I thought of you, or seen you, or simply just spoke your name, I felt something I have never felt before."

I went to speak, but I knew letting Luke speak was the right decision.

"I want to punch myself, and try and understand myself at the same time. The things I did to you, horrible. You don't deserve that, Johanna. You don't deserve me." He sighed. "Guilt has built up inside me every single day, and at the end that guilt turns to love, and theres a whole lot of it." Luke's body shifted closer to mine, heat instantly radiating off of his body and onto mine.

It felt nice. And not just the heat, the sense of being so close to Luke. The moral thought of telling myself he was radiating heat onto me when in reality we were both ice cold, and I believed that because I wanted to.

"I wondered if I could take back every I love you I've ever said to you, and wondered if it would make a difference. I wondered if I could take back what I had done to you, take back ever pulling you into this scam with me, would it ever mean anything?" 

His pinky fiddled with mine, our hands wet, cold, and one as they meshed together. "When you love someone so much, you have arguments. You feel like leaving them for good, and then you decide not to leave them because you love them so much. And way later you say sorry to each other and forget the argument you just had. You could be happy. You cold say I love you and I'm sorry." Luke paused. "I'm sorry."

I fought against the urge and looked at Luke, and wasn't sure what was what. The rain was pouring down hard, yet I think the wetness on Luke's face came from his own being. He was crying, almost harder then the rain was coming down - which was in buckets.

"There is a distinct, awful pain that comes with loving someone more than they love you." Luke stuttered, hand laced with my own. "I know that distinct, awful pain." It was my turn to cry, and a tear managed to slip from the rim of my eye and fall limp on my damp cheek.

"The growth of our love story had been gradual but my old habits have and always will exist and both coupled together formed a deadly combination that was detrimental to our love. I wanted you to love me. I want  you to love me."

Again, I went to speak. I went to say I love you but nothing came out. Nothing.

"When I look at you, and think about how much I fucking love you, It's like watching a movie being played on the blank screen of my mind. I don't get bored, Johanna. Not once. I could watch that blank screen the rest of my entire life, and I would be satisfied."

It was then silent. Between us, we said nothing. A roar of thunder erupted, lighting filling the sky, and it was then, he spoke again.

"I asked for five minutes and I got it," his hand slipped from mine, his other fumbling in his pocket. "If you want to leave me, you can." He swallowed hard, lifting off the ground, his tall figure towering above me.

"But I want you to stay," He choked, his knee placing before me. "I need you to stay."

Again, fighting against my will power, I glanced up at Luke, his perfect quiff now falling upon his forehead. Water dripped down, his eyes shot red. Luke looked absolutely and utterly gorgeous, no matter how torn up and beat he truly was.

I had failed to look past his eyes, which took my focus to his hands, my heart stopping in this very moment, something it seemed to do a lot with Luke.

It felt so familiar. The heart felt message, the tears, the feeling of a heart break, this, was happening. Again.

Luke failed to speak, instead his lips quivered, the diamond ring held firmly in his large hands. I said no once before, and here we are. Could I do that again?

Did I want to do that again? Could I really turn down Luke a second time? Everything I had left was standing before me begging me to stay, and for some mind blowing reason, I didn't know if I could.