Petal [h.s.]

THIRTEEN - ACROSS THE BOARDWALK

"I didn't mean that. I'm sorry." She mumbled, but I knew that was bullshit. She said exactly what she meant.

"Go home, Jess. Tell your parents I said hello." I replied, shoving my hands in my pockets as I turned away to leave.

"Harry! Come on, I'm sorry!" She called out behind me, but I didn't respond or turn to look at her, I just kept walking.

I expected to hear her heels against the cement, expected her to chase after me and keep trying to make it right, but she didn't. She never did. She didn't care enough to fight to make things right because she wasn't capable of feeling bad for anything she did to hurt me. That was just who she was.

There was a deep feeling of loneliness inside of me as I entered my empty apartment. I'd felt it for years and it just kept growing. I picked up a bottle of whiskey and began to sip straight from it, not bothering with a glass. It burned when it went down, but I hardly took notice. My eyes were locked on the framed photo that sat on my nightstand. I was only a child in it, but I was happier than I'd ever been, because my mum's arms were around me and my dad was beaming at us and everything was good.

I tilted the photo face down, unable to look at it anymore, and went back to sipping my bottle of whiskey in silence. I looked at the wall that I shared with Arabella and wondered what she was doing over there. I wondered if I would see her tonight for a smoke on our balconies. I didn't know whether I dreaded the thought or anticipated it.

Thinking about her had me tensing up. I was incapable of relaxing when it came to her. I was constantly on high alert. I knew the second I let my guard down, I would do something I'd regret. Thoughts of her plagued me, though. My dreams about that night with her haunted me and had me barely getting any sleep to avoid them. I couldn't explain any of it and I couldn't bear to keep trying to rationalize my fantasies.

That's what I thought her moans were-a drunken fantasy.

I'd gotten about a quarter of the way through my bottle of whiskey and I was well on my way to being wasted when I thought I heard the first one. I shut my eyes when I heard it, swearing that it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but then it happened again.

Moving closer to the wall, I listened intently, my eyebrows pulling together at the sounds. It had been so long since I heard her have sex with Finn that I assumed she was done with him, but apparently not.

My levels of anger and arousal rose as I pressed my back against the wall, listening to her as the moaning and cries of pleasure got louder and louder. If I were sober, I would have been touching myself and letting my mind run wild. After drinking alone all night, my anger just took over and then a feeling of sadness hit me. It was a wave crashing into me when I heard her cry out Finn's name and I realized that I could never have her like that.

I forced myself away from the wall and back to my bed, laying down and looking up at the ceiling. There was pounding against the wall in a rhythmic fashion and I squeezed my eyes shut, my breathing getting heavier as a new type of rage flew through me. I knew she was being fucked against the wall and I couldn't help but think the little cunt did it on purpose. A deranged smile appeared on my lips, almost impressed with her ability to affect my mood. I ran a hand over my face, reaching over for the whiskey bottle as I listened to her cum.

I remembered the way she felt around me when I was the one making her cum. The way her cunt tightened and the way she shook and gasped and moaned. She had such pretty moans. The sound of them aroused me to no end and listening to her now had my cock stirring in my pants. I was too drunk for this.

I lifted the whiskey to my lips as I heard yelling start on the other side of the wall.

"Did you just say his fucking name?!"