Did the big man in the sky have it out for me? Yes. No doubts. A short walk to third party's apartment. Third party's brother. He waved once as he escaped out of the door, with a sad smile. He looked like he knew something. Was my life a fat load of crap, based only on the torment I received from the ignorance of my mother, the overshadowing beauty of my best friend and the torture from her boyfriend? Yes – I was wrong. He really has no dignity whatsoever. His lips are on my temple. This was punishment. He was still torturing me. I gave up ignoring him after three days, I'd spilt coke on my strawberry bra on purpose, just to see him again. He was right – I had no self control. What was wrong with me? We were in his girlfriend's living room and he still couldn't help seducing me. He'd had a fight with Duke, bad day, bad day, bad day, seduction, torture.

His girlfriend and her brother had only been gone for five minutes and his hands were on my hips. The first time in three years since his lips have been in contact with me. Not as good as lip to lip, but definitely good. No, wait – bad. Sigh. I sucked in a breath and turned. I ask him why he's doing this. He asks me what I mean and I do something stupid, but it feels good. I raise my fist and wince as I hear a crack, as my knuckles come into contact with his jaw. My eyes are closed. I open them. He's facing away from me, a fist print. He looks back at me. He looks hurt. He touches his face. It's too good to stop now. I punch again. This time it's his eye. I don't look this time around, I run. I run down the hall, the wrong way. I'm at a dead end. I crumple to the floor. I'm crying. I look up.

He's there. I blemished his beautiful face with a yellowing eye and a red mark on his jaw and he's still there. I cry more. I say sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm sorry. He says it's okay, and that he's sorry too. He walks away. I leave. I'm wondering why I haven't thrown myself off a building yet. But the memory of him saying sorry kept me sane, for the night anyway.


I saw him again, but this time he wasn't working, we weren't at his girlfriend's house, or his house or my house. It wasn't the usual scene. It was raining quite hard and I was at the edge of the wood behind my house. I had a bag of cheese puffs in one hand as I walked under the canopy of the trees, my hair stuck to my face and the cheese puffs tasted like rain water on my tongue but it felt quite nice. I knew my way around and I was nearly half way through my adventure when I heard a rustling sound. I saw the back of a brown haired head poke out from low behind a tree trunk before disappearing behind it again. I heard sniffling. I rounded the trunk curiously, hoping it wasn't some random paedophile. Yikes. My heart ached slightly in my chest but I ignored it as a pair of brown eyes looked up at me though wet, heavy lashes.

He stared up at me then began wiping his eyes furiously with the backs of his sleeves. I gulped and dropped down next to him. He told me that he hadn't been crying, and that it was just the rain. I was going to disagree but his eyes told me not to so I snapped my mouth shut after a contemplating millisecond. I wanted so badly to ask. Why was he crying. I looked at his face closer and chewed down on my lip. My eyes widened. Regret. His right eye was surrounded by a black shadow, yellows and purples circling his eyelids. Guilt. I looked away, I looked down at my fist. After a moment of basking in the beauty of the rain and of the boy sitting beside me, he spoke. He said his life was fucked up. I said I understood. He asked me how and I told him he has no idea. I felt his hand on top of mind and a pulled away as if his hand was on fire.

No matter how much I want this, I couldn't do it to her. I tasted blood on my lip and I quickly pressed them together to halt the bleeding. I leant my head against the rough bark, closing my eyes. He rolled his head to the side to look at me. I knew because I felt the stare burning the side of my head. He asked me whether I hated him. My eyes flew open and I shook my head vigorously. He smiled in relief and turned away. Silence screams truth. Oh yeah, and confessional speeches. I ask him whether he knows. I think he gets what I mean. Does he know that I want him? His lip twitched at the edge before looking me straight in the eyes. I think that's point five. He gave me a curt nod and looked at the sky, sticking out his tongue and catching the rain. I told him people piss in the sea and he's basically drinking piss. He told me sarcastically that I was lovely. It hurt even though he was joking.

My heart was thumping. He shuffled closer to me and tightly took my hand in his. The burning from the salty tears escaping down my cold face mixed with the piss from the clouds morphed my lips into a colossal frown. I was frozen in place but I felt less damaged. I turned my head to look at him. We were so close that my breathing was erratic. He leant towards me and hesitated at my lips. I flinched away from him, staring forward. I'm not sure how many points that near miss delivered to me.

I couldn't take this.


He showed up at my door later that Sunday night. I saw him waiting there outside my window. Mum shouted from the bathroom for me to answer. With my cheek pressed up against the window, my eyes cast on him I replied to her that I would. But I couldn't move. He took a seat on my doorstep. I heaved a sigh, pulling on my purple dressing gown and making my way down the stairs. I traipsed into the kitchen, pouring myself some of mum's vodka. I downed it in a gulp before making my way into the hall. I could make out his shape through the tinted glass. I pushed down the handle. I lied and told him that he'd woken me up. He didn't answer. I leant against the brick wall. I felt dizzy. He looked up at me with a determined gaze. I've lost count in my head. I might be catching up. My eyes widened as he told me he's broken up with her.

He stood to his feet. I took his hand and opened my front door, letting him in. I lead him through to the living room. I hated the flowery green wall paper in there but his favourite colour was green so maybe he silently appreciated it. We sat down. Me, cross legged, him normal. He let his head fall into his hands. He asked himself what he'd done. It was rhetorical but I answered anyway. You've ruined lives. He gave me a quick and sarcasm filled thank you.

I asked him whether he liked cupcakes. He asked me what person didn't like cupcakes. Cupcake haters, I'd replied. He told me I had a point. I got away. I was in the kitchen. I opened my junk food cupboard and took out my favourite cupcakes from Cupcake Jake's. I handed him one. Silence again. I asked him why he was here. He thanked me for the cupcake and slumped into the couch, messing his hair up with his other hands stressfully. I wanted to put it back into place. I reached over. Stupid girl. He looked at me fleetingly, then gazed at my elevated hand. I went to drop it into my lap but he took hold of it. If he knew. He asked me whether I knew. If he wanted me? My breath got caught in my throat and I felt my tear ducts explode. A salty tear rolled down my cheek. I shook my head. He put down his cupcake.

He told me he did. I thought my heart had just crawled up into my throat, flew out of my mouth and a fat baby shot me in the chest with an arrow. I let out a throaty gulp. He told me to look at him so I did. He told me to move closer and I did. He rested his hands on my back and I rotated to face him. I kissed him. Right there. I can't believe I did. I just leant in right there, pressed his moist pink lips to mine and it felt so euphoric and fantastic and any other positive adjective on the face of the earth. He was gripping my face with his hands and he desperately kissed me as a tear rolled down his cheek. I wiped it away with my thumb. I cannot be blamed. I'm not at fault for that kiss. He isn't either. It was those damn chocolate irises. His eyes said so.

He grabbed my face again. He can be such a shit stirrer. Can you blame him? I'm still not sure. I think I blame his eyes.


What do you call a donkey with three legs? Glue. Review saying "BANANA GRAVY" if you liked this story. Check out my other Sam/Freddie stories and one-shots. Thank you, my loves.