marti

Tommy kept coming back to her, wounded and dripping blood once or twice a month. He just kept coming back. It was like he couldn’t contain himself. Everytime she cleaned his open scars, he would grab her by the waist, inhaling her opium perfume, only to fall into a deep state of meditation.

“When will you start to behave?” she asked, in a soft murmur. The smell of alcohol burned his nose, so he rubbed himself in her clothes to get that warm feeling of her gourmand perfume. She smells like a sweet little treat.

His arm was around her, his face resting on her chest while she cleaned the wound on his head. He just grumbled in response, or was it a visceral laugh? It was hard to tell, she was barely awake. The fire kept on dying from the night before, the house kept growing cold.

“Your fire is dying,” he said, ignoring her question.

“My pyjamas are warm ‘nough,” she replied. That was a lie, the mere thin fabric of her dress was showing off her clavicles, almost exposing her breasts and was barely any cover from the chill winter that whipped Birmingham.

“You want me to revive it? You know I was always good–” Tommy asked, playing with the embroidery on the hem of her dress.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re not my boyfriend anymore, remember?”

Suddenly the wind blew in and opened a window, and whatever fire was left on the fireplace, died in that instant. She broke the embrace Tommy had on her and with a loud thud she closed the window, knowing tomorrow her neighbour upstairs would be a pain in the arse for the noise at four a.m.

Tommy stayed in silence, what was he supposed to say? “Yeah I know”? “Yippee hurray”?

“I just wanted to help,”

“Well don’t! You should have helped when I asked! Help is given when asked, not whenever you want, I am not your fuckin’ Shelby foundation, Thomas! ‘m not a child in need!” she stated.

He blinked, staring at her. The silence in the room was deafening. No coal crackling, No air coming in, no birds chirping. Just the curious moon catching a glimpse of whatever they once were, and the bright stars slowly fading away, allowing the sky to turn brighter and brighter by the second.

“Was I so hard to love, Tommy? That’s why you left me?” She poured her heart in her eyes, and he blinked again, turning his gaze away from her. Hell froze over, there it was.

Of course she realised he left. That gloomy morning he left her side and never came back, only for John to show up two weeks later to pick up some of his belongings when she was waiting for him, only him.

“Did he say anything? Is he okay?” she asked, not knowing he was breaking up with her.

“Sorry darlin’, it’s just the way it is, y’know?” he said, while leaving out the door with one of Tommy’s coats and a pair of gloves.

He was leaving something that belonged to him behind.

He was leaving his girl behind.

“You are my love,” he whispered in the quiet of the winter night “mine, all mine.” he kissed the tip of her nose. “No one will take you away from me, my girl.” He kissed her eyelids softly, while his musky and leathered perfume invaded her.