Aftertaste, noun
Af·ter·taste
: persistence of a sensation (as of flavor or an emotion) after the stimulating agent or experience has gone
There was once a time she was running away from her life, from people, from everything and everyone; running a...
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I know I don't get all the stuff that I need, but I don't care at this point. I need to get away from here as soon as possible before I let myself get even more hurt. I refuse to sit here and wait until Alexander gets out of his mood and decides to be nice to me again.
I don't know if Alexander is still here when I'm finished packing and I get out of the bedroom. I only packed clothes for a few days so the suitcase is a bit of an exaggeration but I don't even want to borrow one of Alexander's duffel bags.
Alexander appears from the kitchen, raising his eyebrows when he sees me. "What in the actual fuck do you think you're doing?"
I'm startled when he speaks because, frankly, I didn't expect him to say anything. I didn't even expect he was still here. I lift my head up higher in a proud manner, basically letting him know that I'm not letting him get under my skin with this kind of behaviour. "I'm going to stay with Sam for a few days. I don't feel comfortable here when I know I'm not welcomed and appreciated."
I can see this stuns him a little. Yeah, this is not the weak Gabrielle anymore that would take any shit people would throw at me and hide in the corner and cry every time someone hurt me. This is Gabrielle that has the strength to walk away from everything that makes me feel bad.
Alexander walks to me in a few fast strides, his head shaking. "Like hell you are." He almost growls the words out.
"You are in no position to even have a say in this," I say with a defying tone that lets him know I'm not backing down this easily. He hurt me and he deserves to know that.
I try to side-step him, but he blocks the doorway, extending his arm and preventing me from going anywhere.
"Okay. Let's talk," he says.
I scoff. "You had your chance to talk, Alexander. And you talked, alright." My voice cracks at the end of the sentence and I swallow hard, feeling my anger being replaced with hurt.
"Gabby, there are some ... things you don't know yet."
I straighten up, my spine stiffening. "What things?" I'm already expecting the worst.
His hand grabs the back of my head suddenly and he kisses me. I'm so shocked, I just stand still for just a second and then my lips automatically move against his as if they can't help. I groan against his mouth as he turns us around and presses me against the door, kissing me hard. My hands go under his shirt and I lightly scratch his stomach with my nails. He bites my bottom lip in return and picks me up so I have to wrap my arms around his waist.
He doesn't let me come up for air, though, his hand pressed against the back of my head and his lips still on mine. I groan again when he sits down and I'm sitting on him. He finally releases my head and I pull back, trying to glare at him, but I'm pretty sure my eyes are glazed. "What are you doing?" I want to know.
