“#Imagine the possibilities!” Anthony told me. “This could change the future of medicine management as we know it!”
I nodded, only half paying attention as I read my book. Later, I would come to regret not paying attention to every bit of information he told me.
My #favourite sweater had gone missing. It wasn’t in the laundry basket, nor the dryer or the wardrobe. Heading Thomas arrive home, I went to ask if he’d seen it and stopped.
“That’s mine, take it off.”
“I need it.”
“I don’t have anything on underneath.”
Of course I made him give the sweater back. It’s mine. I pull it on and reach for him, my fingers #linger dangerously close to his waistband.
“Later.” I whisper a promise as he goes for my wrist.
“Anthonyyy.” He whines and tries puppy dog eyes. If I had time it would work.
I wished I could lay here forever in the #haven of his arms, but I had my own Anthony to get back to.
Thomas has always been my #blindside. Even as he raises the gun, I find myself surprised. I’d always imagined this would be the other way around.
“Do it.” I tell him before he can chicken out, his arm is already trembling.
He pulls the trigger and everything goes dark.
To the outside world Anthony is orderly, collected, aloof, condescending. So I take great delight in unravelling him and revealing his #wild side. Like now, for instance, when I’m tracing the tattoo on his thigh with my tongue while he pleads for more.
#Bright lights blind me and I stumble, unable to figure out where it is I’ve materialised this time. The squeal of brakes combined with the acrid scent of burning rubber complete an overwhelming trio of sensory information and my side erupts in pain before I black out.