"You look like shit." Melissa remarks, evidently trying to make small talk and disguise the fact that she came here without being whistled for. If there is one thing that I make clear to the women I hook up with, it is that I don't like abrupt, spur-of-the-moment visits, especially when they are paid by an unwanted guest.

She didn't lie, I will give her that. I look like utter shit, reeking of the repulsive, putrid smell of the alcohol I kept guzzling down last night, fused with the nicotine I squander my health and hygiene on. My clothes stink of the sweat I forgot to wash away yesterday, after a brutal workout session that failed to decimate the debilitating thoughts Candice is responsible for.

I am a walking corpse, and I still can't determine what hit me: her careless blunder, or the fact that I can't function without her.

My demons are rising above the pinnacle of my sanity, and she is the only one who is capable of striking them down.

But she is not here, and I am the one who drove her away.

I shouldn't regret it. I should exhale a sigh of relief for getting rid of her liability and the way she subdues my head and makes it spin like a fucking steering wheel.

But I do, and all I can think of is how I want to have her in my arms once more, to bulldoze her slip-up behind us and start anew.

I am so fucking miserable, with and without her presence.

Shaking my head, I shove my thoughts of her to the back of my head, focusing on the drawback in hand. "What do you want?" I ask, my voice curt, and I don't miss the way Melissa shrinks in her seat, my tone agitating her even more.

I've never had a filter, and if I can't control what goes out of my mouth with Candice, then I won't bother with anyone else.

"I came to talk to you about something." She answers, her voice faltering. "Do you have a few minutes?"

No, I don't have the minutes, or the energy to talk to her or anyone else, but judging by the look in her eyes, I ascertain that it's urgent. "Wait here. I'll shower and come back." I order, and she immediately nods, her head slightly hanging with submission.

Her hesitancy and obedience don't nail me anywhere; if anything, they nauseate me, reminding me of the way Candice is always hell-bent on defying me and hijacking my marbles, and how it maddens me, yet still makes me ache for her even more.

Waltzing into my bathroom, I strip of my repellent clothes, before I step under the rippling flow of the cold water, feeling it as it washes away the swelter covering my skin, and with it the sleepiness cloaking my gaze.

The water succeeds at refreshing me and keeping my eyes open, and the toothpaste works the foul taste of alcohol and smoke loose.

But my brain? It stays completely and utterly numb.

Shoving my limbs into a pair of sweatpants and shirt, I walk out of my room, following Melissa's voice. Who is she talking to? I muse, strolling out of the hallway, only to find her standing by the door, wearing one of my shirts. What the hell? "What are you..." I hasten to ask, before I trail off, rendered speechless upon seeing Candice and the hurt look on her face.

I put that devastated look on her face, and I want to rot in hell for it.

"Candice?" I find myself saying, flabbergasted and incredulous at the same time. After going off at her and embarrassing her more than once, I never expected her to rebel against her ego and come to see me.

"Uh—" Her lips part, and I behold the upshot of her seeing Melissa in my shirt all over her face; a combination of disbelief and distress that makes me long to hold her, to pacify her shock and demystify the nasty situation. "I came here to say something, but I guess it doesn't matter." She divulges, saying exactly what I see in her eyes. She came to make things right, and everything was ruined the moment she saw Melissa in my apartment, wearing nothing but my shirt. "I'll uh- leave now." She repeatedly nods, appearing to be unaware of the movement.

She doesn't look jealous. She looks like she is swimming in a deep sea of woe, primed to leave and go somewhere else to crumble, instead of staying here to fight.

It breaks me, yet I can't haul my eyes off of her, not even as I open my mouth to kick Melissa out. "Leave."

For some reason, the pain in her eyes amplifies, and I find her swiveling, ready to flee. "Not you, Candice." I hurry to say, realizing my mistake. "Change into your clothes and leave, Melissa."

In response, Melissa lets out a gasp. "Are you fucking serious now?"

"Did I stutter?" I snap, my eyes never leaving Candice's.

Letting out an audible huff, she stalks into the hallway, emerging back with her clothes on only a minute later, before she quickly tramps past me and Candice, as if she is being chased by a deadly creature, muttering 'asshole'.

I am an asshole, but if I am ever forced to choose between Candice and anyone else, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment to let my heart choose.

Finally alone with me, Candice allows the hatred she feels to rise to the surface, spawning the inauguration of the inevitable argument we are about to start. "Never thought I'd see you looking at me with such disgust." I confess, advancing toward her.

"Do you enjoy the way you play with girls like little toys? Ordering them into your life, before you cast them out again?" She inquires, mirroring my footsteps toward me.

Does she view herself as one?

Is she daft enough to believe that I see her as another toy for my pleasure?

I rise one eyebrow. "Is that what you came here to say?"

"I fucking hate you!" She spits forthwith, trying to act composed.

No, you don't.

You feel the same about me.

And what I feel for you surpasses any margins or elements.

Instead of giving voice to what I am itching to say, I find myself parading toward her, a nonchalant smirk taking over my face. "Oh really?" I mock. "Please tell me that's not what you came here to say either."

She drags her right hand down her beautiful face, as if to mollify her anger, before she knocks it off, raving, "you used her to get back at me!"

I should confirm her wrong speculation and cut our dispute short. I should stop myself from making it worse, yet, when I open my mouth, all I say are other rationales for her to flee and never look back. "Was that an attested statement?" I chuckle. "You're aware that you wouldn't have found out about her being here, if you hadn't come, right?"

She sucks in a deep breath, her face contorting with even more disgust. "I fucking hate you."

"You already said that." I fire back, loathing that word and how it is directed at me.

She snaps.

"And I'll say it over and over again!" She fulminates, her voice rising an octave. "Because that's how mad you make me feel! So fucking happy, and then so pathetically miserable! That's how much control you have over me!" She yells, power walking toward my frozen stance, her eyes shooting off sizzling coals at me. I don't get to decipher her wrathful statements, before she starts catapulting the rest of her ballistic verbalism. "No, that's not what I came here to say, Dylan!" She retorts to my provocative queries. "Actually, I came to say the absolute opposite! But look at how pitiful I am right now, because of no one but you! So yeah, I fucking hate you." Just like that, she finishes her piece, her chest struggling to compensate for her burned-out breaths.

It is safe to say that I stopped listening after she revealed why she came here.

I came to say the absolute opposite.

The words are clear, devoid of any mistiness. The meaning clicks in, and fireworks start detonating in the air of my murky cosmos, but I find my feet closing the gap between us, my eyes wide with shrewdness, needing to hear her say the words. "What do you mean?"

"Are you dumb?" She asks in return, her voice loud enough to arouse the dead. "I hate you! I despise you! I loathe you! I—"

"Stop that!" I yell headlong, my face grim. I don't want to hear any of that jazz. "You said you came here to say the opposite. What did you mean by that?" I ask, bringing my face so close to hers, a chagrining attempt to intimidate her.

"I don't think it needs clarification, unless you're too stupid to catch the meaning." She bellows back like the she-wolf she is, crossing her thin arms, refusing to relinquish her sway, the way she never does.

Right at this moment, my brain is incapacitated and out of options, and I have never been more desperate to hear anyone voicing their affection for me.

I don't deserve it, but I will be damned, if I don't tow the words out of her mouth, syllable after syllable.

"I'm stupid." I state through gnashed teeth.

She laughs, and I can't decide whether she is nervous or amused. "Not my problem." She grits out, sheering toward the door. "I'm leaving." She announces, ostensibly starting to lose her resolution, her stubbornness slipping. Treading toward the door, she braces herself to abscond through the open outlet, before her objective crashes the moment I reach out and slam the door shut, keeping my hand there.

"You're not leaving. Not yet." I declare, my lips hovering over the luscious skin of her neck, dying to be fastened onto the spot that makes her go languid in my hands. Squeezing my eyes shut, I force my hands to stay where they are, wanting to keep my sordid thoughts in check.

Turning around, she fixes a nonchalant, unaffected look on her face. "You don't decide that, Dylan." She affirms. "I won't let you play me, just like the redhead who just left, not like Linda, not like anyone else." She declaims, and it takes every fiber in my being to disregard Linda's name, the guilt I feel for her having no place in today's conundrum. "I don't deserve those mind games you play on me." She ventilates, her throat working. "I was there, having blue fucking days, thinking about how I've hurt you, how you must be in pain. But I was fucking mistaken." She shakes her head, disappointment dulling her lustering eyes. "While I was drowning in guilt and anguish, you were here, sleeping with another girl, after everything we had between us!"

Does she think I slept with her?

I hastily shake my head, alarmed. "I didn't sleep with her! I was shocked—just like you—when I saw her in my shirt!"

She lets out a humorless laugh. "Of course!" She scoffs. "Now, I'm supposed to trust your words!"

I scoff right back at her. Who does she think she is, throwing the reproach in my face, after telling Trent about Cheryl? "Look who's talking! The one who couldn't keep her mouth shut about the shit I trusted her with!" I rant. "Only you would play the victim in a situation like this! Only you would make me feel like shit, even though I am the one who's supposed to be hurting!"

"We're not throwing guilt at each other here!" She bloviates, throwing her arms in the air. "But maybe that only shows how this—whatever we have between us—is broken." She exclaims, and with her hopeless words, my heart shatters.

She is giving up on me, the way everyone else did.

I gape at her, my throat closing up at her beauty, the beauty I am losing.

She is a divine goddess, and her ambrosial hands are made of the ointment that can heal the wounds of her adulators.

So, heal my heart, for I am your foremost worshipper.

But she doesn't.

Opening her mouth, she passes out the words that undo me. "I should have stayed away from day one. Now, I just got my heart broken...again." She shakes her head, her face crestfallen, before she turns her back to me, terminating the windswept journey I was aspiring to bring to a providential, happy ending. "This is it, Dylan. I can't do this anymore."

She is a fate, and her pictograph is depicted all over my walls.

I was destined to fall for her, and I was destined to fall past her, until I made impact with the ground and broke my neck.

She is a divine goddess, and I have lost faith.

___________________

Hey, guys! It's been a while!

Since many of you have expressed their interest in Dylan's chapters, I thought I would add them here as well!

Also, just wanted to let you know that I just posted the prologue of book two of Blues here! It will be Logan's story. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/246143855/write/974420338

Also, also, you can find all of my works on Radish Fiction! My username there is Raghdanezzat.

Also, also, also, you can connect with me through Twitter and Instagram, where I post stuff related to my books! Find me @ Raghdanezzat. I follow back!

All the love! Stay safe x.