real life!

Water trickles down Adira's skin. Her head leans back, resting on Justin's shoulder. His fingers follow the droplets down her stomach. Cold water hits her breasts, and she shivers. She bites her lip softly. Her dainty fingers move to circle her hardened nipples. Her blue eyes watch their shadows paint the picture of two entwined bodies losing themselves in one another.

Bliss, she thinks, as she flips in his arms and presses a kiss to his neck. She moves down, kissing his chest, then his stomach, then his palms, before her lips find a path back up his body.

He leans in close to her. "It's too early for you to be a tease."

She giggles, flattening her hands on his chest. "And it's too early for you to be a big baby."

Rolling his eyes, he cuts off her laughter with a hot kiss. This kiss is urgent and needy. Her head is in the clouds, like the entire world stops just so they can share that moment with one another. He pulls away, and she plants her lips right back on his. She couldn't get enough, but he could.

He breaks the kiss, laying his hands on the soft skin of her waist. "Baby, I have to meet with the lawyers today, but, when I get back, I'm going to show you just how much I appreciate this beautiful body."

She huffs. "I don't think I can wait till then."

"Okay. Let's do a quick one," he relents.

Something makes her stop and look at him. His eyes are flat, like he would rather be anywhere else. She became skilled in everything Justin Bieber when they had been together all those years back. She knew how bright his eyes burned when he truly desired her. She remembers those words he used to whisper to her in the dead of night: "Follow your heart, and it will see you free." Now, she is scared. She had come to depend on him and his words and his body, but he was setting himself free, and there was nothing she could do to change his mind.

Before she could think too hard, she turns around and takes a deep breath, as if preparing for a battle she would never win. She focuses on Justin's fingers, delicately working the shampoo into her hair. "That feels so good, J."

He kisses her shoulder. "Good."

After rinsing her hair, he pushes her naked back against the shower wall. She looks at him solemnly as he takes her body for the last of its worth, claims her soul for a final time. She just listens as he slides into her. She whimpers as he groans and moans in her ear. She takes it as he pounds into her, basking in her temporary pleasures. She throws her head back, finding her release.

A heavy silence falls over the shower as he finishes inside her. "I'm going to get ready now," Justin finally says. He stares at her spread legs for a moment, like he knows this is the last time he will see her like this—breathlessly gasping from the high of her orgasm, nipples perked, cheeks flushed, pussy sopping.

"Okay." It is a noncommittal utter of acceptance. Her blue eyes meet his brown ones for a single second. Everything they were and are and could have been seemingly swallows her. She is barely above water, arms held up to the sky, begging for a hand to reach down and take her to the heavens.

No more glances are shared. His tattoo-covered body—tattoos she had spent countless nights tracing, and kissing, and enjoying—walks to turn off the shower, then he picks up his clothes, and then he is gone.

Adira wills her body to stand. Her feet guide her out of the shower. She walks to the mirror. Her eyes bore into her reflection. Water slides down her body, dripping to the floor. Her fingers grip tightly to the counter. She is all alone.

Tears gush down her face. Her feet move of their own accord to the empty bedroom. Justin had taken everything with him. It was like he had never been there, and, perhaps, he hadn't been. Perhaps she had only fooled herself into believing that she would never have to brave another storm alone. That her boat full of dreams and hopes and aspirations would never capsize again. That the rain would shoo away. That the sun would finally beat down on her face. That she would survive.

She notices the deafening silence once again. She walks to her balcony, looking down at the marble floor. It was all so grand. Sometimes it suffocated her, like she didn't deserve this life, like she'd been through hell and back and somehow it still wasn't enough—she'd still be stuck in a never-ending hole of condolences, and pity, and tears.

Her phone shrills from the palm of her hand. It takes her a few seconds to move, too caught in the unceasing battle in her mind to pay attention to the painfully loud clang of her cell.

Not bothering to check the caller, she answers meekly. "Hello?"

"Hey, Adira, baby. I'm surprised you answered."

"Oh. It's you."

He grunts. "That's no way to speak to your father. I raised you better than this."

She laughs bitterly. "You stopped being my father a long time ago."

Ishaq Arian: the man who had abandoned her mother before she was born, only to return when was 4-months—professing he was a changed man—and got her mother pregnant again. He repeated the cycle once more, blessing the family with Aden, then he stayed for a while. Little Adira knew he could never stay in one place for too long, and he left for good when she was 11. "I tried my best with you all. One day you will see. You're all pieces of shit, but I tried my best," he said before his departure, kissing each of their foreheads one last time.

Adira's memories of him were bitter and brutal. She could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him sober, but the number of times he had laid his hands on her mother, and she had had to wrap a sobbing Amala and Aden in her arms, were countless. Their mother's weeps haunted the halls of their childhood home. Sometimes, when their mother had been so bloodied she lay lifeless, he would turn his attention to Adira. She would chase Amala and Aden into their rooms, knowing what was too come when his big steps shook the picture frames. Then she welcomed her fate, accepting blow after blow after blow.

A dark chuckle fills her ears. She almost flinches. "I see you're still the same silly little girl. I thought you would've grown past this by now."

Her eyes close for a split second. "You don't know me. Your assumptions about me are based on nothing. Just tell me what you want."

"I want to see you. I want to make things right between us." He almost sounded sincere.

"You're a rotten piece of shit. I want nothing to do with you, and I told you that when mom was sick and you showed up to the hospital, begging me for money. You're a worthless bastard. The least you could do is stay gone."

With that, she hangs up the phone.

Her breathing erratic and her chest tight, Justin is the only name on her mind. She knows today was a sign of their demise, but she couldn't help it, no matter how hard she tried.

∙∙∙

messages!

justin

can u come

please

i need u

Busy rn

please

I can't. Sorting something out. Chill

and give me a fucking break

I'll get there if I can