#whet

───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

Lukas sat in his desk chair, facing his bed. It was still unmade, which was practically unheard of. He couldn’t even remember the last time he left his room without making the bed. You see, Lukas had a routine. Every morning, he woke up, went to the bathroom, made the bed and got ready for the day. But today he just…couldn’t. He had woken up to an empty bed where her scent still lingered and a text message on his phone. 

Scarlett: Sorry I snuck out – you looked like you needed sleep. 

His first instinct had been to text her back. Before even getting out of bed, he had written that she shouldn’t have snuck out and that she would be coming on his tongue this very second if only she had stayed. 

He didn’t send it. 

He should have. He knew that. But he didn’t, because clearly, he’s a fucking idiot. 

So yeah, he didn’t make the bed. Maybe to punish himself, or maybe because he wanted to be reminded of her every time he looked at his rumbled sheets. He honestly didn’t know why, he only knew that he had almost called her multiple times during the day, but he had talked himself out of it every single time even though he wanted nothing more than to hear her voice. 

Well, that was a lie. There were things he wanted more. Her taste on his tongue. The feeling of her soft skin under his hands. The sounds she made when he covered her mouth as she came for him so beautifully. Her lips around his cock. 

It was a pretty extensive list, and every single item on it involved Scarlett. 

That was the thing though – he wanted her so fucking badly and for some stupid fucking reason, he had to prove to himself that he could distance himself from her. That he could go without talking to her. Without seeing her. He needed to prove to himself that he could deny himself. So there he sat, staring at his bed like a crazy person while writing a text he knew he would delete as soon as it was finished. Just like he had deleted the rest of them. 

My bed felt empty this morning. You didn’t have to sneak out

Delete. 

You were so good for me last night. So perfect. 

Delete. 

I can’t stop thinking about you. The little sounds you made. How well you took what I gave you. I can’t wait to…

Delete

“Helvetes jävla skit,” he muttered to himself and threw his phone on the bed. Why was he so fucking pathetic? And why was he so dead set on proving to himself that he could go without the thing he craved the most? What was wrong with him?

Well, there were probably quite a few things wrong with him. He knew that Scarlett would be upset by his lack of communication. He knew that he risked losing her before he had even truly had her. He knew all of this, yet he couldn’t help himself. This incessant need to prove to himself that he could deny himself the things he wanted was such an integral part of who he was, he had no idea how to quit doing it. As a child, it had been all about not eating sweets or sleeping on the floor next to his brand new bed for months. It had been about suffering just to prove to himself that he would survive it. It had been about discipline. About being able to endure difficult things. 

And now, as he sat in his chair staring at the bed where he had almost fucked her, he wondered if he would be able to endure not touching her for 15 fucking days. He wondered if maybe this was the time he failed.