Compulsion: Lust

She lets them touch her just the way they want to – the way she wants them to. Her hips have bruises in the shape of fingers and she’s learned how to cover up the marks on her neck, on her chest.

When the empty bed feels too cold and the silence is so loud it hurts, her hands reach for the phone, numbers already impregnated in them from redundancy. Her voice sounds like rain through the phone and the calls are terse; whomever she’s picked for the night will be over shortly.

There’s a knock at the door and she doesn’t even pretend to act like she called for any other reason. With a quick lock, she’s pressed against the door, pulling the body as close as she can and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Their skin meets and it almost burns but still she only presses closer. It drives away an emptiness and this is better than being so alone. She curls around him and tries to make them knot together. There’s a question in his eyes when he looks at her and she can’t stay still any longer.

Her mouth moves and he’s up, looking oddly a little like a kicked puppy and she makes a mental note to delete his number from any memory she had with him in it. Soon he’ll start inquiring about them as a couple and wanting more and she can’t stand that.

He leaves and it’s eerily quiet and surreal. Her eyes gaze over to the messy bed and the recollection of suits hanging in the closet and shirts strewn on the floor hit her like bricks. She begins to remember her own laugh intertwined with another’s and soft kisses; so sweet, the kisses were, so unlike the ones she gives out now.

A chest can feel so much more like a casket when it feels like your heart’s dead inside. Slender arms wind themselves around her and her knees give out.

Already she’s running through numbers in her head; anything to get out the aching memories and she knows too well the late nights with someone else helps. Late nights pretending like she’s someone else with no past make it easier.

With salt leaving trails on her soft face, she wonders how her heart can still feel like it’s breaking when it’s already been shattered.


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