Sick and Sweet

There he goes, his sixth cigarette of the afternoon. It's not like when he's on a "power trip" (like last night), but even so, I know some kind of nonsense is about to start, and I'm going to have to play my part, too. It's a routine, it's destructive, and it's damn addictive.

"Come here," Alex called, and grumbling to myself, I walked through the narrow hallway of our messy apartment toward him, muttering curses under my breath—useless.

"What?" I snapped, standing in front of him, wearing his oversized T-shirt and crossing my arms—always defensive, always expecting Alex's unpredictable moves.

But only after five minutes did he decide to look at me, exhaling smoke from his cheap cigarette through his nose. Damn, I still don't know how that cold stare hasn't killed me yet, after three years of whatever this relationship is, if it even is a relationship at all.

"Sit down," he said, pointing to his right leg as he opened his legs in a dominant and intimidating manner. He was in control, and he loved that; I did too, and I simply obeyed as always, feeling Alex's hand firmly gripping my hip—a sensation that was almost deliciously painful.

"One of the guys saw you..." he inhaled on his cigarette again as he continued,

"At the store, you know? A new friend or an old client?" I flinched at his hurtful tone. I knew what he meant, and it's not like I'm ashamed of my past. No, working at a strip club wasn't all that bad, at least not when my boss was around, and besides, my friends there were the sisters I never had—the only ones I ever had. But Alex always loved using that as a weapon of manipulation, exploiting my weakness, all while being full of his own hypocrisy.

"So, every man I talk to is someone I've slept with or am going to sleep with? That's getting old, Alex." He quickly grabbed my chin firmly, looking me in the eyes with his beautiful yet dangerous gaze.

"That sassy mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble one of these days... I don't give a shit what you do, but you'd better not be making money behind my back after everything I've given you, Leena."

That was all there was to it. He didn't care if I might be unfaithful because, after all, how can you be unfaithful when you're not even in a formal, traditional relationship? It was simply, as Alex likes to call it, a "win-win situation."

"I didn't do it," I muttered, holding his gaze defiantly. "The guy was drunk and looking for an address, but I know you're not going to believe me, so do whatever you want."

And Alex did just that; he pulled my hair, making my head move backward as I hissed in pain, and perhaps also in pleasure. My heart was pounding wildly, and he just took his sweet time, looking at me like a hunter, exhaling smoke, pausing, then continuing.

"You're wearing my t-shirt again.." he said with a dry chuckle. "I told you to stop doing that stupid, clingy stuff. damn you never listen"

Typical of Alex—changing the subject when he gets bored or realizes I'm right about something. He can't let me win, and he can't allow us to have a truly "normal" conversation. Then he pushes me off his lap and walks towards the bathroom without saying another word, and I'm left there, completely bewildered, wondering what this meaningless game is all about. Will I ever understand it? There's nothing I can go back to, and there's not much to look forward to in the present either,only one thing I do know: I'm lying to myself again.