1 | BLACK

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1| BLACK

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1| BLACK

'I AM ABSOLUTELY DONE.'

Layla tried to blink the tears away that were forming rapidly in her eyes, but her poker face had already crumbled.

'Come on, Lay. Please don't do this.'

If she hadn't been so devastated, she would have laughed at the clearly audible desperation in Blake's voice. She had never heard the guy sound anything but amused before, let alone desperate.

It almost made her want to come back to him.

She shook her head, her brown curls flying around her, as if to shake the thoughts away.

'Blake,' she said, her voice softer as it broke,' please, I can't do this anymore. This relationship we have... it isn't healthy.'

It wasn't.

She had started dating Blake four years ago. Four years they had been together and it had been great.

For the most part anyway.

When they were in a good part of their relationship, everything was wonderful and exciting. She would be so happy that Blake was treating her with so much love and care. It had been that part of him she had fallen in love with in the first place.

He was like her dream, her own prince on his black motorcycle.

It were the times he got angry that made her see the black in his eyes more prominently than ever, that sparked fear in her like nothing's ever done before.

It was like she was Pavlov's dog and he was the bell that was ringing her back to him. The tinkling sound of his voice always managing to lure her back in, each time with more empty promises than the last.

'What do you mean, not healthy?' he spit out, his eyes ablaze,' everything is perfectly fine as it is.'

He had stood up, closing the distance between them in a few steps. His living room was huge, but it had never seemed so small before.

'Blake,' she breathed out as he cupped her face in his hands.

'Don't do this, Lay,' he said, his voice noticeably gentler,' I love you, you know that.'

And with that, every time his voice had pierced the air, every time shards had filled the room and every time he had covered her skin with marks, were gone.

All that was left was him and her.

She didn't know if it was love that still had made her come back to him, time and time again, or desperation, but she clung to his shirt anyway.

Every pretty lie he whispered in her ear, made her heart beat faster and every kiss he planted on her made her believe in him more.

Made her forget how his words held no meaning.

'You can't leave me,' he murmured, as he made his way to her neck,' you're mine.'

With each touch of his lips on her neck, vivid memories of his hands on it flashed before her eyes. She felt suffocated, like his presence alone was enough to take the air out of her lungs.

God knows it was enough to take the thoughts of her head.

'Lay,' he said, the nickname sounding more and more like a collar around her neck,' you love me too, right?'

'Blake, please,' she begged, not caring how desperate she sounded.

The tears were flowing freely now, but he didn't seem to notice them. At least he was pretending not to.

'I can't do this,' she said, when his hands pulled her closer.

'Of course you can,' he said, his eyes meeting hers, drawing her in like they had done countless times before. When he noticed the tears, they softened.

In this light, they almost seemed golden, the brown in them ever so clear. She almost got lost in the shadows in them, but she blinked her daze away.

He pulled away, only keeping one hand on her face, his eyes concerned.

'Don't cry,' he said,' I can't take it when you cry.'

She looked up at his intensely dark eyes, the brown lost in them now he had moved out of the light, and wondered why she was still here. Why she had been caught up in this mess she called a relationship.

'I'm going,' she said quietly, shaking his hand off her face.

He immediately grabbed her wrist and she winced, having known the feeling of his fingers on her skin before.

They always left marks.

He let her go, his face panicked.

'I'm sorry,' he said,' did I hurt you? You know I didn't mean to, baby.'

She saw the vulnerability on his face and everything in her screamed to hug him. To tell him everything was going to be alright.

He never meant to hurt her.

So she ran her bruised hand across his face, leaving a trail of purple and blue across it's wake. The vivid colors on her skin were slowly mixing with his and in that moment, his eyes didn't seem so black anymore.

Their love didn't seem so black anymore.

He kissed her, telling her he loved her with every moment he took her breath away.

Was love supposed to feel like air would never fill your lungs again, or was this just an addiction she would never be able to escape from?

'Lay,' he said,' I love you. You can't ever leave me, I'm nothing without you.'

And she was nothing with him.

But she mirrored his smile, unable to keep the hints of fatigue from seeping through, and let the words he wished to hear tumble from her lips.

She didn't know when love began and hate ended, but the lines in their relationship had always been blurred anyway.

At least now, when his lips were leaving a trail of kisses on her body, she was able to believe he truly loved her.

That he would never leave a bruise on her again.

That this time, his words weren't just lies.

He was right. She couldn't leave him. Not because she didn't want to, but because some part of her couldn't let him go.

He was like a black hole and she was getting sucked back once again.

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