#ofmorosis

Max had been situated in front of her newest piece, painted on the wall of her apartment. Splatters of browns and reds, with the silhouette of the city in the foreground. The distinct sound of Satan’s meow of disapproval could be heard as he leapt off of Max’s lap once she got up to face the other girl as soon as she heard Harper shut her window after climbing through. There was something about what Harper said, her tone, her posture, body language, the way her eyes softened--  all of it. Immediately, Max felt a pressure flare up behind her eyes, filling them to the brim with tears. It wasn’t her fault. Max wasn’t the one coming to Harper’s apartment, high as shit. No, it was the other way around-- she clenched her now shaking fists next to her body, afraid that if she made any movements, she’d throw a punch. 

Or worse, she’d grab her by the face and kiss her right on her stupid, soft lips. 

Max donned a false sense of security and steeled her demeanor. It seemed no matter how many times they came back to each other, it imploded on them. And the only way that wouldn’t happen again is if Max closed herself off entirely. It was better for her, better for Harper. So that’s what she did.  “Oh no? Fucking watch me.”

[ 📞 ] ‘“God– I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again. You and I both know that’s much easier said than done. Not everyone has it as easy as you. Not everyone can just skate by, doing the absolute bare minimum. Some of us– we have real expectations to uphold. ” 

[ 📞 ]  “Oh– you don’t have to be scared, love. I promise. I’m right here. Whatever it is, I’ll– no matter what it is, I’ll be here. I’ll help you get through it. Promise.”  A beat. “Is it– Was it…Did she hurt you again?”