E N R I Q U E R O M A N O

Sweating like a damned pig, I wipe the water that I splashed on my face with the towel around my neck.

Heading towards the door to see if I had any mail, I yank over the entrance and see a whiff of blonde hair move swiftly pass me.

I stand there in my position startled, blinking twice before saying, "Sure, come in."

"Let's just get something straight first," She ignores me and continues, "I am not here to have sex with you."

I raise my eyebrows before throwing the towel on the table next to the door, licking my lips shortly before placing my hands low on my lips as I look at Demiah.

"Okay..." I start. I plop down on my sofa after saying this. "Then why are you here?"

She opens her mouth as she taps her fingers together, seemingly sure of herself until she hesitates and stops, now unsure of what to say, throwing her bag on the table next to her.

I stayed stoic on the couch, one leg crossed over the other. It was only a matter of time before a large goofy smile appeared across my lips. I tried to mask it, I really did, but she saw it anyway.

I folded in my lips and looked away from her penetrating gaze. She scowled, "Okay, why are you smiling like that?"

I hummed, "Oh nothing," I waved her off with a flick of my wrist. I stood from the couch and walked past her, ensuring to walk close enough to her person, my lips tugged up at the corner. I inhaled shortly with my eyes closed, "Hm, you smell delicious."

She didn't blush like I'd expected. Instead she looked at me flatly, following me down my hall, "And you're sweaty," I looked behind me and noticed how her eyes were staring at my naked back. "Don't you ever wear a shirt?" She questioned.

I pushed open the door to my bedroom, "You're asking if I don't ever wear a shirt in my own house? Need I remind you that you showed up here after totally blowing me off last night."

Correct. It was Friday afternoon and after preparing a hell of an Italian dinner, I had to eat all alone.

"I told you that I couldn't come. You just chose to ignore me," She quipped. She followed me in the bedroom, having no problem in sitting on my bed as if she knew my house inside out.

I leaned against my dresser and folded my arms, staring at her sitting on my bed, legs crossed and back straight. My eyes traveled to her feet which were covered in heels. A hand swiped the gruff of my chin as my tongue swiped my lower lip.

She surely was a sight, and something told me that no matter what she did or how many times she stood me up, I would literally still be pining after her no matter what.

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, you didn't answer my question? If you're not here for me to fuck you, then why are you?" I stated nonchalantly, turning around to rummage for a shirt to put on, but eventually settling for a light vest. It was hot as fuck as it was already.

"You didn't answer mine either. Why were you laughing? And aren't you going to shower?" Her face was set in disapproval.

"Are you going to bathe me?" I questioned. She didn't respond, instead she finally blushed and looked away. "Thought so," I feigned disappointment. "And you said you weren't here to have sex with me. Why wouldn't I be happy?

She hesitated, a cute, confused look on her face, "So... me not having sex with you makes you— happy?"

I nod my head eagerly, but quickly paused my actions when I think further ahead, "As much as I like sex with you—" I begin. "The fact that you came over here, knowing that you had no intention of sleeping with me, just means that you're here for a different reason. And I like that reason better."

She folds her arm across her chest defiantly, "Care to share what that reason is? Since you obviously seem to think that you know me better than myself."

I slowly walk over to her, my head tilting to the side, "I don't wanna say it, I might jinx it."

A charming smile spreads across my face. As much as I find pleasure in fucking the daylights out of Demiah, the fact that was here and she didn't want to have sex simply meant that she was here for another reason; a better reason. To talk, to chat, to watch television, to eat- I didn't fucking care. The point was that she was in my presence and not with he scruffy-looking husband.

Just as I'm about to humour her further, the faint sound of a knock is heard.

I curse under my breath, looking at Demiah's uncomfortable expression. I sigh as I shrug the vest over my shoulders, watching as Demiah stares at the tattoo trailing my upper arm, "Wait here," She was about the protest but I had already left the room, grabbing a beer from the fridge in the process.

I swing open the door, and just like Demiah, the person walks directly into the house, dropping her bag on my table as she comes in. I shut the door with a roll of my eyes and with an amused breath, "Doesn't anyone wait for 'come in' anymore?" I murmur.

"What?" I turn around and watch as Meghan makes her way to the kitchen, long black hair straightened perfectly down her back swishing side to side as she walks.

"Nothing, nothing." I wave off. She finally turns around with an exhausted breath and looks at me, a large smile forming on her lips. I evaluate the short, black bodycon dress she currently sported, the material comfortably enclosed around her body and accentuating her tiny waist and flaring at the protrude of her hips.

She shrugs her shoulders carelessly, "God, I am famished," In order to prove her point, she dabs a slight hand on her forehead, her very strong English accent pouring from each word that she spoke. I was always a sucker for the accent.

She grabs the wine bottle that was already opened on the counter and poured herself a glass, hiking herself in the counter and turning to face me as she leans backward on one of her hands, her legs crossed as not to flash me.

Long legs bouncing as adorned in matching black heels, Meghan swirls the liquid in the glass and tilts her head as she looks at me, "How have you been, Enrique? You haven't called me in days."

I hum as I walk over to the counter where she's sitting, grabbing the bottle opener and popping the lid off my beer and taking a long swing, "I've been busy, Meghan. I assume you were too." I take a long look at her, biting the inside of my cheek as I watch from the corner of my eye as her leg bounces up and down. I lower my voice, "You're not here to seduce me, are you?"

She moves the glass away from her lips, throwing her head backward to release a long laugh, "Like hell I am. You should know I just always look this good."

I protrude my bottom lip and nod in agreement, "Yes, you do."

Her smile falters a bit as she stares at me for a long moment before she continues, "Right so- I was here about the fundraising event next Tuesday. I need a plus one," She comes right out and says.

She easily jumps down from the counter, propping her hand on her hip waiting for me to disagree like she knew I would. I groan, "Meghan-"

"Excellent! You can pick me up at 7," I couldn't help but laugh as she walks away, deciding for me that I was going to come no matter what. She grabs her bag in a jiffy, slowing her movements when she sees Demiah's own.

I fold in my lips and look down to the floor as I rub my chin, "Uh— who's bag is this?" She questions.

"Hm? Oh— no one. Shouldn't you be going?" I rush as I walk towards her and press my hands on her shoulders, ushering her out of the door.

She turns around swiftly, "Are you trying to get rid of me? Because it seems that you're trying to get rid of me," She smiles up at me, lips coated with red, lipstick; that damned accent.

"It seems that way because I am," I quip. I lean against the door frame as I watch her stare back at me.

She bites her lip, coming to lay a slow kiss on my cheek before pulling way knowingly, "Tell her I said hey, hm?"

I shake my head with a small chuckle, "Sure."

With that, she walks off, designer purse in grasp and an exaggerated sway in her hips that amuses me. Shaking my head yet again, I close the door and make my way back upstairs, seeing Demiah in the same position, although her expression was different.

"Who was that?" She asked, trying to avoid the curiosity from dripping from her tone.

"That," I stare at the mirror as I run my hand through my hair differently each time to get a reasonable style going. "Was my ex."

Her eyebrows shoot up for a short while, "You have quite the relationship with your ex," She mumbles before she clears her throat.

"Ex-fiancée that is," I correct. I turn around to face her. "You were eavesdropping?" My tone was amused at best, my tongue coming out to lick my lower lip before pinching said lip between two fingers.

"Pfft," She starts unconvincingly. "Was not," She was definitely surprised that I even had a fiancée to begin with.

I don't respond for a long time, simply admiring how her eyebrows were now scrunched together adorably, and how now even sitting with slumped shoulders and a drooped head, I still couldn't think of another person who was as beautiful as her.

She suddenly rose from the bed and didn't spare me another glance, brushing her hair from her face.

"Where are you going?" I found myself asking, biting the inside of my cheek.

"Oh- um, I have this thing... with these people..." She begins unconvincingly. "I should really get going."

My mouth briefly opened in disbelief, "You can stay for lunch," I blinked twice and looked away from her quickly when I knew that something dangerous was sparkling in my eyes and dripping from the tone of my voice.

Hope.

That dangerous and self-destructive emotion that left me a distraught mess all of those years ago, eating at my soul and wearing me away. Thinking that at some point, Demiah would have returned to me and we'd ride off into the fucking sunset.

But that didn't happen, and it would never happen, because she was married to a uptight motherfucker and I... I couldn't handle being left in the dirt for a second time.

I turned away fully from her direction again, to properly ensure that she couldn't see what I knew was present.

"No, no... you have to prepare for an event and—" I supposed that she was going to continue with her snarky, little comment about Meghan but I didn't let her, slamming angrily the dress shirt that was in my clutch for my shift later tonight and swinging around to face her.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you sounded jealous- which may I add, you have no fucking right to be," My tone was short and clipped as my eyes seared into hers, successfully stopping her movements.

Her head moved back in disbelief as she stared at me, obviously surprised by my outburst.

"Excuse me?" Her tone was accusatory and angry as she glared at me.

"You have a fucking husband and you also have no right to talk to me as if I'm doing something wrong. If your husband can't please you sexually or emotionally, you talk to him, and you deal with it. You need to remember that we are nothing. It isn't my fault that your pathetic marriage is failing," My words were hot and heavy, and I watched as they anger in her eyes dissipated into solemn dejection and misery.

My finger was now pointing at her irately, a sick part of me loving how the spark disappeared, just for a moment, from her eyes- how it seemed that she was finally feeling even just a fraction of what I felt over a decade ago. It was because of this that I foolishly continued, "It was a good fuck, so..." Stupid. "Thanks." Cunt.

I was a stupid cunt.

I thought that an overwhelming sense of relief would flood over me at seeing how I destroyed her feelings, how I made her hurt. But it was nothing of the sort.

My heart thumped against my ribcage painfully, my hands growing clammy when her lips formed in the shape of a laxed 'O', her eyes drooping in exhaustion and finality.

My face contorted in regret, my Adam's apple bobbing up and down as I watched as she nodded her head in disdain, "Thank you for that, I'll be going now."

Her voice had attempted to sound strong, but I caught on to the slightest swivel of a tremor present, her eyes glazed over and sad as she straightened her back and protruded her neck proudly.

I cursed in my mother language under my breath my hands reaching for her, "Fuck, I-"

She didn't give me time to speak as she left the room, except this time, I followed after her and held onto her arm, spinning her around to face me,"I shouldn't have said that." I apologised.

She released a humorless chuckle, "Yeah, well," She yanked her hand away. "You may not have wanted to say it, but you meant it." She seethes, her eyes staring at me in such disgust that it caused me to stumble to see such hatred in her eyes.

My heart literally burned.

"Anyway," She now smiled menacingly, "Thank you for allowing me to see things in your perspective, it was very insightful." She said sickeningly sweetly. I somehow liked it better when she was yelling at me. Her face was angry again, "Don't follow me."

That was her last statement, before she made a beeline for the door, leaving me to angrily push the closest thing that was in my reach to the floor, hearing the crack of my vase as I sat and studied about how I was the biggest fuck up to ever walk this earth.

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Word Count: 2495

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~TheOfficialSinner