chaosorc

or, this baby here can fit so much sorrow

Content warning: Rape.

He buried himself deep inside and nutted in her. He paused and tried to recover, laughing under his breath. Feels so good, he looked up and she was unconscious.

You alive, he slapped her face and she snorted.

Still breathing, he slowly pulled himself out of her and groaned then flopped onto the bed beside her.

He looked over and worried that she might get sick in the night and choke on it so he snuck an arm under her shoulder and tried to roll her. Dead weight. But, he got her up on her side and leaned her forward.

Wha what's going on, she was talking in her sleep.

He froze, panic struck, afraid of the conversation. He pretended he was trying to cuddle with her, kept his arm around her until she snorted and went back to sleep. Then he withdrew, satisfied she was on her side, stuffed a pillow under her back and looked at the vast wet spot she left behind on what was now his side of the bed.

He pulled his clothes on and stepped into the hall, unsure about leaving the door unlocked at first but there was no one there to see that he didn't have a key on his way out.

He sat down in the car and turned the engine and a throbbing and repetitive song came on, a chorus beckoned to be released. He recognized the song, breathed through his nose, a combination of the woman's perfume, alcohol, and the car smell hit him. He felt a tingling behind his ear and scratched at it.

He pulled out his phone and searched for a contact, it was blocked. He unblocked it and wrote, sorry I blocked you I had to be sure.

The message said sent, not delivered.

He sat listening to the song and it faded out, then a new song began with almost a hissing rhythm, low piano cords ringing out and holding, the ping of a paint can into the reverb.

His eyes searched the dashboard and he opened the center console, emptied out the glove box, there were no cigarettes.

Panic struck, he texted again, cigarettes.

He called his friend and left a voicemail, hey this is Phil I'm not sure who to call about this but I need to talk. I think I am remembering some things and uh. His eyes searched the darkness of the neighborhood ahead of him, the apartment parking lot. I don't think I can do this anymore. I should have believed her, man.

He hung up and put the car in gear, backing up and driving slowly out of the parking lot.

The song continued as he turned onto the street and he was crying.