Heartache

I wasn't a heavy sleeper so when I sense something unfamiliar from a distance, I peek at what danger it is.

Shadow sculpted by the dim lampshade, a man in a white longsleeve and black pants is sitting on my sofa, and busy removing his shoe.

Aware of a sudden gaze, his eyes immediately uncovered my orbs in the dark. His eyes were always heavy to stare at, but right now, they weighed heavier. I search for my cold gun under the sheets to shield myself from a possible attack from him.

"Why are you here?"

He tore his gaze and bowed to focus on his shoe. He didn't respond but the firm moving of his jaw pronounced the tension we are in.

I rose to my position to sit in front of the headboard. The feeling of the descending blanket, revealing my naked chest, and him watching the process of it got me seeing red.

I got no time wearing anything to cover me up after I got home. And right now, I do not care about him seeing it bare.

After all it wasn't enough to calibrate him.

It wasn't a deal to him as far as I remember.

The clenching of the jaw and the presence of our silent breathing got more defined for a few more minutes of weighing each other. And when he menacingly rose to his seat to walk towards me, a certain thumping and twisting of something got me.

Defense.

I held my gun tight.

I watched how the mattress dipped down as he sat right below my feet. A familiar pigment on his collar passed my eyes. A scent aside from mine lingered in my nose. With the mission to dissect him for a possible firearm, I ended up remembering what his body looks like under those fabrics while mine was enveloped by his.

I am fully aware when he placed a purse and a gun inside the lampshade table's drawer.

"I got you your purse and gun back" he voiced, disregarding the rise of the tension I am radiating.

"You left your phone inside the house. You are agitated to leave?"

"I can fully replace what was left inside that house, you don't have to get here to bring it back,"

When he moved to languidly cover my chest with the blanket, I maneuvered the gun on his heart.

"You left me,"

I grinned and looked on the side where the darkest pit of black is.

"You were done so I left, isn't that how it should be?"

Wanting him to be aware of my danger despite the threat of having moist eyes, I pressed the gun firmer on his chest.

"You are not my first foreplay, Saviereda. If you think I should be emotional about that, you might consider thinking who I am again,"

"My father disposed me. Do you think you being unaroused with my body will cause me a twist of heart?"

He sighed.

The feet that are once on the floor were now one with me on the bed as he fully lay beside me. The lampshade made him an epitome in the dark as his features were obscenely shaped by a magical illusion made by his shadow.

He covered his intense orbs with his arm and bended his other knee up, seemingly preparing for a tough sleep beside me.

"Can I stay here for a while? You are cold."

The urge to move away from his body when his long legs unintentionally brush my tensed legs is strong, but a voice saying I shouldn't compromise just because of a prohibited feeling is screaming.

I slowly put my gun down because the threat he is bringing couldn't be matched by a gun.

I stared blankly in front, suppressing a cry.

This is why I am afraid. I shouldn't cry but I wanted to cry even when there should be nothing to cry with. I got disappointed to pieces even when it was me pushing him to do that to me. I was the challenger but I ended up tasting my very own bait.

And if it would be just guns in between, I would have fought and lose but not have a breakdown.

If it weren't for an unnamed feeling, I wouldn't get a heartache.