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Addiction (standard:romance, 476 words)
Author: TheaAdded: Mar 04 2005Views/Reads: 3289/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
She wanted her addiction to continue, even when it had stopped.
 



He tasted of danger and sin. This was the man that could curl her toes;
leave her breathless, and willing to beg for more. She would drop all 
pretensions for a taste. She knew he was aware; used it to his 
advantage when it suited. She simply didn't care; her addiction 
wouldn't allow it. 

She would kiss and lick from head to toe with stops in between. She
would use every trick, ones that made most men jelly-legged, but he 
seemed to be immune. Only his in the middle of the night; he was gone 
before first light in morning. 

Through the motions of the day, she would go, pretending to be
unaffected; knowing it was a complete lie, and one no one fell for. At 
night she would pace, wondering if he would show, and in what mood. 
Some nights he didn't show up, leaving her feeling ugly and unworthy, 
and then he would appear the next night as if nothing had happened. She 
let him do as he pleased, to gain his favor. Excuses would be accepted 
if given, no need to change their pattern, they were happy; or so she 
told everyone that asked about him. 

She loved him; or, what she thought love was. She waved off friends'
advice about how love wasn't power. It wasn't like that, they didn't 
understand. He loved her; couldn't they see that? It was so obvious. So 
he messed up, called her the wrong name occasionally, didn't show up 
for weeks at a time.  They just didn't understand. 

On and on the cycle went for her. Then he left, said she had changed.
She had begged and pleaded, promised to change. Too little, too late, 
he said before walking out the door. Crushed, she didn't leave her 
room. What could she have done? If only she had been a better 
girlfriend, surely that would have kept him there longer. 

Determined to win him back, she changed to fit the perfect girlfriend
mold. When she arrived at his door, knocking in anticipation, some 
other girl answered the door saying he wasn't at home, but would she 
like to wait. She asked who this other girl was and gained a reply of 
fiancée. Fiancée, she asked. Yes, for nearly a month, was the reply 
while showing off the ring. A month, she counted, the length of time 
since he broke up with her. A quick goodbye, an excuse made to call him 
the next day. 

Inside her house, on the sofa they had made love on so many times, she
cried for all the broken lies and illusion. Sin, she recalled was what 
she had thought after the first taste. Sin only led to betrayal; she 
knew this now, leaving a scar along the length of heart. 

So why, she wondered, did she still want Sin so badly? 


   


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