Hi Sweetie, I hate you.
"Nitsudian I want to break up with him."
There, she thought confidently, I’ve finally said it out loud. Mitsuki waited for an answer nervously, habitually slipping her thumbnail into her mouth and chewing while Nitsudian studied her face. Of course what he said probably wouldn’t change her mind, in fact he’d probably be all for it. She could just picture the way his face would glow in pure bliss, he’d wrap those strong arms around her, and she’d want to faint with glee.
Even if he doesn’t agree with me, which I’m sure he will, it won’t even put the slightest bit of a crack in my resolve. This has to stop, and I need to break loose from the awful the ball and chain.
Nitsudian didn’t say anything, Mitsuki felt a growing irritation, she wanted some sort of affirmative or praise for the first mature decision she’d made since this relationship started. He did slip his arms around her and pull her close, she shut her eyes enjoying the rich scent of cologne and firm body pressed against her, but something was horribly off.
This innocent gesture had long since lost its casual appeal of comfort, now she desperately needed it as badly as every drop of caffeine she had to keep coursing through her system. She slipped a hand up his shirt; the steady heartbeat was like a calm ocean tide beneath her fingertips each beat a splash against natural granite cliffs. As much as she enjoyed the personal hiatus that every touch held for her, it was almost as if there was just a plain serenity that couldn’t be shaken off.
Her fingers danced on his skin lightly, he didn’t object or encourage, even when they moved up to his strong chin and gently stroked the growing stubble he remained silent as ever. The skin was course with bristly hairs which sent a small shiver of guilty pleasure through her again.
Finally his hands pushed hers away and he stood looking down into her eyes, the deep blue a mask of emotions, his rich baritone made her feel like a rebuked child as he casually responded.
"Are you sure you want to, it’s irreversible."
Do I want to?
His image conjured in her mind as abruptly as spring lightning, the flabby disproportional pear like body and thick bullet head. His smooth baby hands were large and clumsy and moved across her shoulder as bumbling sausages of childish ideas. They held none of the calm grace and seductive ease that Nisudian wielded. Weak trunk like legs would jut out from faded blue-jean shorts gleaming and glistening with sweat on pasty deathlike skin.
She could already recall with great distaste the lazy whiny voice asking what she wanted to do, then refusing to do anything that the selfish tub of lard didn’t want to do. His full lower lip would push out from his mouth like a deformed shelf of fat ready to catch any fly or wearied insect that needed a rest stop to regroup.
Droopy did nothing to attempt appeasing her easily agitated state lately, or ever for that matter. He won’t even go shopping with me, she thought bitterly, a strong metallic taste mingling with a familiar feeling of rage. The last time she had attempted to buy a nice shirt to perhaps flatter the poor shape his body was mercilessly forced to endure, he stood there as a pouting child refusing to try on anything and giving that awful sloppy puppy grin. The same puppy grin that would haunt many work-shifts as he stared possessively while she tried to block him out and focus on her job.
As if his infantile ways weren’t enough for Mitsuki to bear, she also carried the burden of his less than favorable work habits. He thought nothing of insulting a harder working managers or bosses, demoting them to a less than respectable level, claiming they had no power what so ever to control his paycheck. Then whined and bitched like a deprived two-year-old that no raise was ever achieved by his hard working ways.
As if he even knows what hard work is. Mitsuki could hear the bitterness in her had and cringed, it was something that she couldn’t even suppress mentally. She routinely focused and achieved through eight hour or more shifts, while he was lax and unproductive during his five and half-hour shifts. Even a monkey can make a sandwich and occasionally sweep a floor, a monkey could probably wipe down a table better too.
Actually, she began to think more logically, they probably don’t want that kind of image haunting the Sub’s Day sandwiches. If he was promoted that would be an ill-advised move at best. Paying someone to ogle customers and drool over wilted lettuce wasn’t something that seemed very economically sound anyway.
His favorite shoes alone were something that not even Frankenstein would have dreamt of touching. Sloppy ratty tennis shoes that flapped and gaped open showing every speck of dust, which was a lot considering that he had no motivation to clean his shoes ever, and made his feet appear seven times larger than they probably were. The T-shirts were the worst by far, hideous things that looked as if they belonged to some poor street ruffian in a Dickensian novel instead of a boy from a reasonably good family on the North end of town.
That’s not the worst though, is it Mitsuki? It gets much more awful…
Mitsuki’s mind pulled the memory of their first kiss with grave disgust and slight nausea, the puckered mouth meeting hers in a pathetic attempt at the definition of a kiss. She only dreamed that maybe someday she could literally burn that memory from her mind, the feeling of his inexperienced lips on hers, the forced endurance. He didn’t even bring up the most biological urges for intercourse of any kind, at best she had grown a bit of tolerance for him.
Every time his lips touched hers, she vainly tried to think of something else, often her best story plots were concocted while he pretended he knew how to kiss. If she was lacking the luxury of caffeine and found herself caught in a deadly web of writers’ block, she found that only 10% of the time could she even think of anything decent to say about the experience. Actually, her happiness with him at any given time was generally at low 40% a month.
Her mind had desperately sought ways to gently sever the tie forever, and cut him from her life with a swift lethal blow, that wouldn’t upset his family too much. Nothing had been found adequate, and as a result she was now nearing the six-month anniversary of cruel and unusual punishment for any and all past sins of her fellow women.
I deserve happiness too, he’ll probably get a new girlfriend… in college. Her mind laughed mockingly, the idea of anyone voluntarily taking on the train wreck of her current boyfriend. BEFORE he was emotionally shredded by a relationship he had foreseen as lasting forever, he had been a indisputable loser. What if he kills himself, and I’m to blame? Guiltily she thought the only thing that would make her regret breaking up with him was having to sit there while the police questioned about his mental stability.
"What he mentally stable?"
Of course not, did you see what he used to wear? "It appeared so."
"Did he seem depressed at all to you?"
When he didn’t get his own spoiled way or if I said no, then yes he pouted and moped like a five-year-old rich brat. Or if I even looked at a guy he would throw the most insane temper tantrums. "No, not at all, this is just so horrible."
"Are you holding up okay?"
I’m finally rid of the brat, what do you think? You assholes are lucky I’m not doing handstands and parading around in a THANK GOD I’M FREE shirt. "It’s just so… sudden… and awful… it’s absolutely awful." As awful as winning the lottery and getting to keep it ALL….

Jillian shoved any thought of him to the back of her mind, dutifully waiting for the ‘boyfriend’ to make his infamous return. She almost wanted to curse at the intrusion that had been so inevitable, but there was little use to cursing that, which could not be stopped. Idly she picked up a discarded ping pong paddle and began a repetitive volley between herself and the wall, mindlessly succumbing to the pounding rhythm.
Her mind shut off instantly, refusing to even contemplate the days fustrations, especially the interruption Christopher unexpected visit had caused. Now she was alone in the house with him, he probably prowled the upstairs thinking about some business proposal, it was almost ironic really.
He grabbed my hand and shook it so casually, "Hi, I’m Christopher" as if we’d never met before. His eyes just gleaming with mischief while I numbly stuttered my own name out, gluing my eyes to my dinner as if I’d never seen pasta before. They, thank heavens, thought I was nervous of all things to be in his presence.
She could remember the first time they had actually met face to face, his caressing voice almost lulling her to temptation, Jillian could barely stand to look away from the intense ocean blue eyes. Some spark had ignited her whole body felt as if it had been electrocuted and as he looked straight back at her earnestly, she knew they shared one similar desire.
Then as quickly as he had disrupted her world, he had vanished, and along came James. Of course revealing that she knew Christopher would only bring about odd speculation, why out of all her customers had this one young man stood out?
Yes darling, from the moment I met your brother I knew that I wanted him in so many ways that it was unholy to suggest I couldn’t have his body for even one night. The sick part about it would be that he had the same desire, but like you he lacked the motivation to simply act upon some primal desire. I’m no better I suppose.
The shattering cell ring was loud enough to rip her from any daydreams or regrets. She grabbed it annoyed, expecting some sort of mildly suiting distraction.
"Jill-bear, I can’t make it back sweetie. The roads are all closed and my damn car just won’t start. I’m going to stay at Mark’s for the evening. Chris will be there to keep you company, try not to rip his head of dear, okay?"
"Pumpkin, do you have to?"
"Yes, think of this as quality time to get to know my brother."
I’d rather be getting to know you alone downstairs with some friendly music.
"Okay, Love you, Bye."
She swatted the ball harder; trying not to curse out loud at the crummy situation, surely Christopher would evade her more than ever now. Stranded in the deep merciless banks of winters fury with someone she couldn’t even touch, though she knew she’d love the guilt ridden opportunity.
Jillian watched the ball bounce back at her, she hadn’t even noticed someone had joined her in the room until arms wrapped around her waist and a soft gentle kiss lingered on her neck. She leaned back into the embrace, slightly surprised at James’ sudden affectionate return, all thoughts of Christopher vanished from her mind.
Until she turned around.
"Christopher?"
Jillian didn’t have time to scream or push him away, warm lips descended on hers as the firm body pushed her against the edge of the ping pong table. His strong hands explored her body eagerly, tracing the slim curves then pushing beneath her shirt to her soft abdomen.
She gasped slightly as a hand moved up her back while the other ran though her short hair and pulled her closer against him. Without thinking her own hands went to his head and feverishly explored the thick mass of auburn, then traced his broad shoulders, gripping them tightly as he lifted her off the floor and easily set her on the table.
"I’ve wanted to do this from the moment I talked with you."
She couldn’t protest, she was helpless and happy, answering his confession with another kiss and loosened belt. He picked her up and carried her to his old bedroom, gently setting her down on the plush mattress. Her soft olive skin made for a beautiful contrast to the deep blue comforter, Christopher stopped to admire the sight a playful smile growing on his lips for the first time.
He pulled off his shirt slowly, appreciating her complementary gaze, the slow appreciation of every muscle and curve. Jillian reached a hand for him, he dropped beside her on the bed, not wanting to rush the moment when they clearly had all night to enjoy any pleasure.
Her rushing urges seemed to have quieted down as a hand carefully traveled down the toned flesh, her body shivered slightly in the cold as her blouse lay half open exposing the frilled white bra underneath. Her hands brought his arms around her, Christopher rolled so he was on top of her their eyes meeting happily.
"Your shivering, are you nervous?"
"No, I’m cold."
He pulled the blankets over them, her body welcomed the warmth and instantly relaxed, he pushed the open blouse off of her shoulders and tossed it off the bed. Even in the pale moonlight he could make out the small designs on the lacy bra, traced them with his fingers, then finally gave in to a deeper less contained desire devouring her mouth with his own.
She unzipped his jeans and craftily pulled them down, flicking them off the bed along with her shirt and her jeans he didn’t remember removing. Christopher unclipped the bra and delved deeper into her mouth, sensually exploring it with his tongue and enjoying the way she clung to him.
As her own tongue met his, Chris instantly stiffened and thrusted towards her as she gasped slightly, he didn’t want to hurt her but her body was driving him insane with desire. He slipped a hand in her panties and firmly cupped her sensitive mound while a relentless tongue captivated her mouth. Then slowly, agonizingly he moved his mouth downwards, easing her underwear off till his mouth was hungrily sucking on her nipple and his fingers dove into the mound.