Climax King

0.7

I let out a sad, pathetic weep as I tug my pillow closer to my body. I wasn't mad at anyone, per say. More or less myself for being so naive to think that someone so athletically inclined as Josh would actually like me in the slightest. Part of me secretly hopes he'd taken my car. Because I would love to see that bitch rot in jail.

I shut my eyes tightly, trying to block out the tears that were freely cascading down my burning cheeks. My life was a wreck. My family wasn't here, my best friend was having the time of her life, my boyfriend fucked someone else, and Finn, he was probably fed up with my bullshit. On the bright side, if even bright, he was done attempting to make me climax. Done helping a useless girl overcome her revolting fear of the emotional damage a boy could leave on her. It was truly all in my head. I was sure of it. I could make it on my own or so help me God I will die trying.

I feel a soft breeze strike my back, making me furrow my tired eyebrows curiously. I always latched my windows in case an intruder decides to make their way into my semi-vacant home in the night. Although anxiety was building, I wanted whoever, whatever was in my house, to completely take me away from this hell. The feeling of uselessness was becoming more and more unbearable as the clock ticked.

"Mean Mena? I'm really hoping it isn't Jockstrap you're cuddling because that could be both embarrassing and quite humorous."

I turn softly, seeing his face illuminated by the moon shining down on this cruel, cruel night. I fake a smile nonetheless, dusting off tears to make myself slightly presentable despite how incapable of feeling emotions I was.

"Well, if Josh is a pillow, then you caught me."

He laughs lightly, taking a seat at the chair I had cornered in my room. Since our previous session, I'd changed the room up a bit so he could freely pull a chair up if so necessary. Not that it was all that important now.

I feel his hand in mine, making me jerk my entire body to face him. I watch as he fiddles with my fingers, as if reading my palm. "You okay? Josh seemed a little too arrogant for himself." He says worriedly, making me feel something deep inside my stomach. Maybe I needed to vomit from all this crying.

"Yeah, yeah. No. We're good. It was one small argument. Besides, I really shouldn't have danced with you. It was unfair to Josh." I mutter, trying not to hate myself more than I already do.

He lets go of me, his hands dropping to his lap as if I'd just dropped a bombshell on his head. He speaks, his voice sounding monotone and yet full of emotions, "Of course. I just came to make sure you were okay."

I nod my head, hoping he could see in the darkness. He stands from the chair, slowly making his way to my window before I stop him abruptly with my hand delicately on his wrist. I could feel the smooth leather under my grasp, making my insides warm with the thought of him riding his bike all the way here just to check on me.

"Actually, can you stay? Please? Just until I fall asleep? Having the house to myself scares me." I truthfully say through the dark awkward tension brewing in my room. Rightfully so, of course.

He nods, taking a seat and taking my hand in his once more. I nuzzle into a ball, my loose fitted shirt most definitely rising but I'm single now, so who cares? But I couldn't bring myself to telling him the truth. If I did, we wouldn't be friends and I would ultimately never reach the goal I'd set.

"Thank you, for tonight. It made me relatively happy." I smile, opening my eyes to look at him. He laughs huskily, his fingers grazing my inner palm.

"I'm glad, Mean Mena. Now get some rest. Clearly you need some sleep." He smiles down at me, caressing the flesh covering my muscle and bones. I feel his hand gently run across my wrist, making me wince at the sudden jolt of pain.