stone blue

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Six hours ago, I had my hands laced through satin curls, blue eyes fixated on me, lips on cheeks, legs to thighs.

Then again six hours ago, I wasn't cowering in a corner of some cheap motel, with Tyson circling my room.

The love my life was alive, peeling the layers of hair from my face, seranding me with kisses.

But it all changed- too fast for me to comprehend.

"And you fucked him? In our bed?" Tyson waves his gun iraticcally, aiming it at me and then up to Louis, his hand immediately going for my shoulders, pushing me aside.

"Put the gun down, there's no need for this." He covers his ears, turning from us, the gun still in his hand taunting me. I want to jump forward and disarm him, but the fear is too much.

He's let the drugs take over.

"I want you to go, Piper." He demands, nodding the gun towards our bedroom door, that is now thrown open, our clothes pattering the floor.

He kicks at my jeans, sliding them over to my feet.

"Put them on and get the hell out of here!"  I hesitate, looking down at the blue jeans at my feet, but I don't take them.

"I can't," I cry, my fingers trembling, my vision going out of focus. "I can't." I say one last time and Tyson reaches over, grabbing my wrist, jolting me forward and I scream.

"I said, get the hell out of here, Piper!" I'm thrown against the door, nearly knocked on my ass as I watch him aim the gun at Louis.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

"It's not my fault," he keeps repeating, again and again, the gun pressed to his head, suddenly he turns to me.

"It's your fault!" He jumps up, staggering towards me and I jump to my feet, stumbling back trying to grab a hold of anything to defend myself. "You're why were in this mess," his hands constrict around my collar, pulling me to him, our faces touching.

"Tyson!" I scream, my body enthralled in fear, "Stop!" My hands jet out in front of me and I push at his chest, pushing him as far from me as I can.

"This is not my fault!" I scream back, tugging at my hair. "You killed him not me!"

It's all quiet, besides the sound of our heavy breathing, and him breaking down. Falling to his knees, he crawls forward, wrapping his arms around my body.

I push him away, stumbling back, "Don't touch me." He looks up at me, his eyes red from the drugs and his crying.

"What do you mean, baby?"

"You shot him, Tyson. You shot Louis. I can't even look at you right now. You were supposed to be friends."

"How could I be friends with him after he cheated with you. After you cheated."

"Why didn't you kill me?"

He looks down, at his hands covered with the blood, his pants, smeared with it also and now my shirt defiled with red.

After a pause he finally speaks, "because I love you."

"You don't love anyone but yourself," his hand reaches out to me, grabbing at my skirt but I step back, letting him drop to the floor.

"You should have shot me too."