Wraith: part one

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Part one of  Wraith. I have no idea when I'll upload the rest of the story. But this was therapy for me. Hope you enjoy.
_______

"I was in love with a girl. And she was perfect. Except she was in a relationship with someone. And he was an arse who hurt her. She loved me back. And I kept pushing her to leave him. She never would. Finally I confronted him. And got the surprise of a lifetime." He stopped. He found it amusing how he could summarise those gory three years into these words.

"What was it?" Natalie asked, impatient.

Others misery still piqued people's interest...

Sitting cross-legged in front of her, in the space between the two beds, he took a swig of his beer and downed it with visible pain. "Slow down, buddy. You'll tire yourself out." She seemed to understand that he didn't wanna tell her the rest of the story. She sighed, patted his knee, and stood up. As she bent down to balance herself, he saw inside her top, also getting a whiff of her perfume.

Nothing. She had no effect on him on that aspect. No one other than Zara did. Maybe that's what happens when you meet the 'perfect girl'. She lets herself out.

Why me? Was I so easy to manipulate? Was any of the things she said, true?
Those were questions that haunted him.

He climbs up to bed and unbuttons his jeans.
Passes out after 513 sheep.
Wakes up.
Goes to work with a hangover.
Comes back from work with a headache.
Gets drunk.
Passes out.


No change for about a month now. He doesn't know which day it is anymore. He is surprised he still has a job.

People used to check up. They stopped after a while.
Writing helps, they said. No one knew what had exactly happened, and were therefore lost on how to help him. So they suggested therapy and medicine and alcohol and everything in between.

Nothing really changed things for him.

"He hurts me. Whenever I'm with him, I'm scared... I'm so scared John.."

He could hear her voice ringing in his ears, day in and out. But like people said, it was fading. It was becoming indistinct. Almost like the chirp of a bird or the cry of his alarm. Almost monotonous. But not quite there yet.

His skin stung in places she'd touched him. Her kisses played along his lips. Her perfect soft lips on his.

"Luke. We name our first child Luke. Please?"

"And what if it's a baby girl?" He asked.

"Leah."

"Perfect."

Her smile was a faltering candlelight. Bright in the beginning. Even blinding. And it fades as she wistfully dims into a beautiful hue of orange before finally burying her face in his chest. 

His arms around her, taking in her scent. Indulging in it.

He didn't get enough of her.

He wasn't sick of it.

He craved it. Was addicted to it. And needed it more than he realised.

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