when i think again,

She tucked her hands under the bend of her knees, lying still in a bed with sheets that still smelled like his sleep. You could be happy played on repeat, against the whir of the heater. It still hurt. The things that he had meant to take with him, the things that he had left behind with her, still stood stacked against the white wall, next to the suitcase she had meant to pack.

They left, drunken and happy, one by one, leaving behind half-empty bottles of bourbon, empty cans of diet coke, and a thick scent, dark with musk. Dead leaves, withered and skeletal, trickled through his open door and a faint howl resonated through deep brambles just beyond the hills. She leaned over a stack of half empty cups, shivering to reach a pack of reds. The paisley blanket covered what little she had left of her wasted body. And she sobbed. A thin darkness enveloped the wooden floor where she lay and the sound of leaves pounding through the open door drowned her cries.

He came, feet dragging across the room, and a shallow t-shirt stained in blue clung to his pale skin. He looked at her.

The air was cold the night she fucked someone else. The screeches of cats and tires against his moans and her cries. He touched her hair, cupped her breasts, and told her that she was special. That he liked her. She cried as she told him, “I have a boyfriend.” He asked her if the necklace she wore was special and she cried as she told him it was. He told her that he was going to kiss her now, and he did, his mouth met hers through her tears, silently sucking the noise out of her cries. She stayed still. She lay still as the shadows of his motions flickered against the walls. Her eyes were shut tight when he came, when he collapsed next to her and reached for her body.

She woke up the next day, cheeks still damp with sweat-mingled tears, and sat up with her back against his cold metal backboard. He had left and she gathered her things slowly, taking her time to dress, the khaki shaded bra, the shirt stamped with pictures of persimmons, and the faded jeans. She walked out.