He looked up, his face expressionless as he breathed out a cloud of smoke.
She sat down, unsmiling.
“Hi.” He smiled…but it looked more like a grimace.
She looked into his eyes. Cold. Careful. Distant. Were they ever warm? Or was it her pheromone infused brain that had imagined that they had ever twinkled down at her?
“What do you want to talk about?” He leaned back in the chair, stubbing his cigarette.
Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t come. What was the whole point. Just to see him? Ask him why he had been so cold and uncaring? Did she even need an answer? Sometimes…it was better not knowing.
She coughed,” Frankly, i came here because i wanted to return your stuff to you.”
By “stuff” she was referring to his T-shirt. She had contemplated burning it, cutting it into a million pieces, making a mop out of it. But now she handed it over to him.
He reached out for it and put it in his bag. They both looked at each other.
I don’t know what happens next, to be frank.
This is just a dream that i had. Which convinced me that i should not meet a certain someone.
Pain followed. But no self pity this time.
I’m not that easy to break you see. He was never worth it.