The bottles of Ciroc and Vodka were half gone as we'd drank until we were intoxicated and the pills that we'd taken were sprawled out on the kitchen table and floor. I looked at the mess that we had created in our rage, glass laid shattered in some parts of the floor and clothes were thrown all over the place but in the clouded stage that I was in it seemed like a normal phase. He stared glossy eyed at me from across the floor leaning against the back of the couch; sometimes his eyes would wander towards the front door anticipating the usual visit of the police that the neighbors would call to dispute the disturbence. I slithered out of the kitchen chair and crawled over to him and laid my head down in his lap as he wrapped his arms around me.
We were a bad mix but the feeling of being in love with one another was like a high that you get...the good and bad. No words were exchanged between the two of us for the rest of the night and we slept in the same position still until the morning came. When I woke up I was no longer on the floor but on the couch with his jacket covering me for a blanket; he was up working on his artwork on the other side of the apartment. Events from last night replayed in my head; After spending the entire day together being mischievous we retired back to his apartment followed by heavy drinking and pills which then led to us fighting. A lot of screaming and fighting had taken place, he said some things and I said some things, and we ended up cuddling afterwards. Some would say it was an unhealthy routine but to us it was how we dealt with the world around us.
I got up from the couch and went into the bathroom; the sight of me was unbearable as I had black stained mascara tears, dark circles around my eyes and the red lipstick was smeared across my cheek and chin. I jumped into the shower and washed until I was clean and when I looked back into the mirror again I felt like my old self once more; quickly I dried and lotioned and threw on a fitted white wife beater and my leopard panties; after a night of fighting I knew he would like to see me in his favorite outfit. By the time I got back into the living room he was no longer painting but cleaning up the mess from last night but he stopped when he saw me. His mouth opened to say something but all he did was nod at me with a weak smile; I returned the favor and went into the kitchen..I guess he's still hesistant about last night. All that was left in the fridge was a six pack of Heineken and Chinese take out from a couple of weeks ago and the cabinets had but one can of beans. Suddenly I felt his prescence in the kitchen and I turned to see him close to my body; he picked me up by my ass and set me down atop of the kitchen counter and our hands roamed each other's body.
He began kissing the spot on my neck as I rested my chin on his shoulder softly moaning into his ear and his hands were found going underneath my shirt and pulling it over my head. We pressed against each other bare chested as our tongues played tag with one another before he returned to the spot on my neck again. A mirror hung on the other side of the wall crooked and I took a look; in the mirror was a reflection of love but all I saw was a repeated cycle of love and abuse.
Run It! <3