JUST FRIENDS

19

In the span of two weeks, Maze had fell into a quietude, a mysterious reserved nature that Blu had never known her capable of possessing in all of their years together. She had withdrawn completely, from him, the club, but he didn't think it was a form of sadness, she had just suddenly become distant, unavailable.

What once was an every-other nightly routine of her performing at the Red Room transitioned into a Friday night thing alone, her requests for private dances grew and she took the opportunity, and was probably making more money than she ever had at the club with her newfound discernment. If he wasn't at Honey's when midnight came again, he'd be able to hear Maze shuffle in, run the shower head followed by the soft sound of her sliding under the covers.

During the day, she'd be nursing Miss Valorie back to health with her dad's aid, gone before he had risen, if she'd done anything else with her time he wouldn't know- her bedroom door would be open, the room itself vacant, the blinds never closed, sunlight painting everything gold, particles in the air steady settling as if Maze had just left a moment ago.

He said that he had chosen Honey. That's what he told her... however...

It was naïve of him to think he could be done with Maze so simply, so suddenly, after years of obsessing over her. Truly foolish to think he could forget or throw her away like Maze was some ole pretty girl that he met before, the girl next door with soft smiles and bra straps that'd fall off her shoulder. A blushing bride. A coquette. A dime a dozen. She wasn't that.

In a room, Maze's presence spoke before she did. She didn't tiptoe, or shy away, she stood up with her back straight. She was stunning. Irritatingly so. And she was unforgettable.

Everyone was starting to look like her, the random girl doing stretches at the gym, the woman from the grocery store, the old lady helping her grandkids cross the street. Everywhere and nowhere, he'd blink and then she'd be gone again.

He'd find himself reaching for his phone to text her and see if she wanted to grab lunch or something, before remembering that he was supposed to be done.

Over.

Through.

The only thing Blu had of her was her scent, that same deep velvety floral that he had become so addicted to that he'd lay down in her bed and sniff her sheets. Until his mouth watered. Until his boxers grew tight. Never would he admit to it but wrapping himself in her bedsheets was his coping mechanism from their best friend breakup, the closest thing to warmth in the cold, blank absence she left him with.

Had he made a mistake? Choosing another over her? Was Honey not the perfect one for him? They clicked, they really clicked, though it seemed the more he got to know about her, the more they laughed and talked and hung out, the wider his ache for Maze grew. He felt as if he had cut off a limb and could still feel the raw nerve endings.

When he started to overthink, he'd get lost in Honey as if she alone could satiate that primitive part of him that hungered for something she couldn't fix. He'd have her fucking for hours. Hours. To the point to where Blu couldn't decipher if her eyes were rolled back in ecstasy or exhaustion.

Sometimes he'd apologize because no matter how many times he climaxed, he'd remain very hard.

"It's always the shy ones." She'd mumble, voice hoarse. "Jesus Christ."

He was hiding himself inside of her, pretending everything was fine, that his high strung sex drive was because he had longed for Honey, perfect Honey. Though when he closed his eyes tight, there was a world of tiny ballerinas, all with ebony eyes, deep brown skin and untamable hair.

.

"You sound like a feen,"

"I know this."

"Why you would get a whole other person involved with what you and Maze had going on is beyond me. I knew something was off when you introduced me to Honey. Poor girl had no idea what she was getting involved in."