Dear Z,

We keep failing, you and I.

• • •

Wednesday, close to midnight

I am a sociopath. I lie most beautifully. I charm people. I have a ridiculous sense of superiority of self. I also don't feel jealous. Hmm...That last part was tested and I scored incorrectly.

I blew the tendrils flying free from the bun I tied up on my head as I click on close tab of the quiz on how to know if you are sociopath. I'm seventy percent sure their results are false and regardless of that, I didn't need to see the answer of that quiz. Shutting my phone and keeping it aside, I sit up on the island of the quiet kitchen.

I was heating warm milk in the bloody middle of the night. It is ten minutes to twelve. I was thirsty and irritated. I looked over the stove where the small aluminum pot with white liquid simmers in there and it's transparent whitish small bubbles popping and bursting.

I look around the dark kitchen. It was eerie. I always felt someone was standing in my peripheral vision and when I glance in that direction, it just vanishes before I blink. How the mental facilities work. From all those horror movies and psychological thrillers we watch, it deceives our thought processes and over activates our creative power.

I leap off the island when I hear the sprightly bubbles, turning off the gas and, I dump the milk in the transparent glass tumbler I set out on the counter before. It's satisfying to watch that milky liquid pour and filling up the space. I sprinkle some saffron. The flakes of red enhances the smell and I blow the liquid before I take a sip.

Another rustle hummed behind me and I start abruptly, the milk almost tumbling over the rim. I catch hold of the tumbler tightly this time and peek a glance over my shoulder.

Nothing! Dammit, my bloody imagination soaring high with all the unimaginable crap that sells on movies. I turn away and take a gulp, regretting it instantly. It scorches my throat and tongue badly. I wag my tongue out and keep the glass back on the counter. Blowing out air from my mouth, I lean my elbows on the cold counter.

I glare at neural backdrop of the kitchen. It really angers you when you burn your tongue and it makes me more furious when I think back on what I saw. Z with his ex-girlfriend. I have been keeping a tight lid over that since I saw Z grab his ex and dragged her back into the house.

I fought the curious venom forming in my throat. I disperse the need to go after them and hear what they were talking about. I didn't see Z the entire night and obviously, my stupid brain went to the inevitable conclusion: they slept together.

Footsteps encounters from behind me and a feeling of discomfort motions in my body. I close my eyes, hoping my overactive imagination stays the way it is-an overactive imagination. Slowly, I peek back and then my eyes narrow in accord.

I swivel around to see what made the noise and finally see Z coming towards the kitchen. I take the glass and carefully sip the now warm milk. My eyes squint at what I saw.

Z was lighted from the shining light of the small lamppost set right outside the house in the garden. Its bright orange glow shining through the window showcasing the dark red rings marks on his neck and a sweet smell wafted from him.

My suspicion confirmed and I react inwardly. The truth was plain and it made me angry. So angry, a cruel smile falls on my lips. I don't know about others but when I grow mad, I start to laugh or smile erratically like some maniac.

I run my finger over the rim of my glass and lean back against counter, facing him as he took me in. Watching me like a predator does to his prey.

I guess that's where he was wrong. I'm no fucking prey.

"Where were you? Your mother was asking for you." I ask, casually.

"None of her business." He grunts and turns to open the refrigerator, taking out a carton of ice cold water. Uncapping the lid off, he brings the carton to his lips, slurping down the contents.

When he raised his mouth up to drink more, his neck exposes revealing bite marks that unmistakably look like hickeys.

My chest feels like a wild fire that has broken apart across dry grass and covering the entire mass of the grassland. My ribs grows tight. The glass feels suddenly too warm under my palm and I tightens my hold on it. My throat aches and I feels a strange vomiting sensation in my stomach.

I turn my head away, focusing on the tiles in front of me. Just like warm milk, my skin begins to heat and I feel like I could overpower an avalanche with the way my emotions seems to be.

Z finally notices the cold silence coming from me and he frowns. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." My tone clipped and I continue to drink in dainty sips.

He keeps the carton of water back inside and crosses his arms over his chest. Still not convinced by my change in mood.

"Something wrong?"

It was that simple question that made me jostle inside.

I needed to do something. I needed to stop feeling this ugly emotions rolling up inside of me, tearing away at my limbs and flesh.

I press the knuckles of my free hand to my eye. Tired and spent waves through me. Being human was so fucking exhausting. I feel furious and tiresome all at the same time.

"Rose?" He takes a step forward.

"What?" I snap, making his brows frown deeper. His face was stubby and sharp. God, why was he so ....good looking? Why can't he have been someone I wouldn't feel such complicated emotions for?

He stops in front of me. I lay my glass back on the counter. I needed my fingers free. I open my hair from its taut band, ruffling their curls as they free. My face flaming and my hands fidgety as I run them down each tendril.

"Why are you angry?" He said it so neutrally that my body shook. My heart pounded out of my chest and the air become hard to breathe between us. He doesn't know that I know.

He tilts his head, regarding me. "Are you mad at me?"

I shouldn't show my emotions so plainly to him. I was a Pandora box before and now somehow, he had the key to open up my demons of all my senses.

I didn't realize I was glaring at the marks on his neck when he noticed my obvious stare and he had the audacity to smirk. He knows now. He knows what I know.

My hands grip the counter behind me stiffly as I press my back further into it. I wanted to get away from his bloody handsome sinful face.

His brown sexy eyes murders me. His chin pointed and jaw line could slice me to bleed. His mouth was perfect. I haven't seen a mouth so perfect as his and I hated it. His disheveled hair, mussed and fussed and I saw red in my gaze knowing she tugged and pulled those black short strands as he fucked her. Oh I know, Z fucks hard. He fucks like he is in war. He fucks like a beast with no conscience. He fucks like you were meant to be his.

My breath shallowed and he arched his bulging arm over my head on the cabinet overhead. Towering over my form, I glanced up at him. I wasn't intimidated by him. I wasn't scared by him. I wanted him to know that.

I wrangled my fingers into the neck of his grey thin t-shirt. I bring his head down to meet my stare and his eyes sparkled with fervor. Oh, he likes it. The basted likes a woman who will run circles around his ass. Because he knows, when she is done, he will cream that ass.

I'm not going to be like that.

"You don't know who you are messing with, Z." My mouth inches away from his.

I knew he let me pull him down because his head geared right back up and his hands came slamming down my hips. His fingertips bitting into the exposed skin of my hips between my dark blue boy-shorts and blue tank.

I tried not to swallow. Keeping it lodge in my throat. I stared hard, even though my insides wanted to melt at his dominating touch. He was huge. His arms massive as they crowded me.

He pushed me further into the counter and it hurt my back. I reeled in the pain, it drove me on.

"I know exactly who I'm messing with, Rose." He breathes out. His fingers tightened. I knew my skin would carry his marks. It egged me on more.

I didn't loosen my grip on his t-shirt. I stood on my toes trying to get some height. He was still massively looming over me but it didn't bother me. I felt sickly pleasured by this fight for domination game between us.

"You can't intimidate me." I whisper, seductively. I lick my lips and rejoice when he watches my tongue keenly.

"Nor can you." He replies back, slanting his face to mine. He heard my breath hitch and that sexy bastard smirked like he won. Hell No.

Before his lips touched mine, I grab his jaw hard. "You kiss me. You lose your tongue."

That smirk grew and I felt a shiver go down my back. He looked like sin. Blazing sin. My thighs quivered and I felt wetness pool between them. I clenched my thighs at that.

Grabbing my hand, he takes my arms and bounds them behind my back. My eyes widen at his uncouth behavior. How dare he!

My tits are pushed up right and against his heaving chest. My nipples harden as I could hear the slamming beat of his heart. God, he is excited by this.

When he raises his palm to touch my neck, I rear back. I hiss. "Don't you fucking dare!"

His hands skitters down and grabs my throat, his fingers pressing the sides of neck. He looked beastly. I loved it. Loathed it.

He bit his lush bottom lip, raking me from head to toe. My hips subtly roll and he groans when it brushes his hardened crotch of his black joggers.

"I hate you." He says low, his brownies eyes stops at my lips. His thumb reaches up, sliding it across my bottom lip. He stops in the middle, bringing the flesh down. I hold my breath.

He leans in closer, his thumb releasing my lip and his teeth closing in and stroking the sharp white edges over my lips. What is he doing to me? The fearful question played inside my mind.

"I hate you so much." His nose glides down my cheek, my jaw and he inhaled my skin in the nook of my neck.

My eyes prickled. My pussy weeped. My tongue dry. His mood swings, his complex words, his even more impenetrable actions made me burst in wrath. He was just with someone and here he was again, brewing shit with me.

I couldn't contain my ferocity in me but I took in a breath and immediately regretted it when I recognized his old spice smell. Yet it calmed me. I became centered. I was ready to protect myself.

When his eyes flashed to mine, I stared straight back, dreading revenge deep into his eyes and he sees it. "Get the hell away from me, Asshole."

Then like a flash, something changes in him. His back tightens, face hardening, emotions blocking, wall building up and he sprints away, leaving me alone in the kitchen, darkness surrounding me and not looking back at me once.

I part my lips. My flesh was quivering. I felt like I was having seizure. I was falling because his hold had vanished.

I lay unsteady on my feet. I touch my lips first, gliding down my throat which was steaming to touch and lastly, my chest where my heart runs for the wildness it's chasing.

This is the rarest moment in my life. Every possible reaction races through me and the only thing lying underneath was pain.