one shots

colors [2/4]

GREEN.
green like jealousy. green like envy. green like greed. green like growth. green like money. green like renewal, rebirth, a fresh new start.

Remember when we met? I'd just left my last lover— my face was still bruised up and everything. You said I was cute anyhow, which made me laugh. You insisted on buying me a milkshake— after all, we were in Wendy's.

The attraction was undeniable. We clicked instantaneously although you thought I was the smallest bit weird. I didn't take offense, knowing that I'd been weird my entire life. However, it did make me the slightest bit self-conscious from then on out.

My sudden self-awareness didn't cease there— in fact, it only heightened once we became good friends. . . Soon, we were friends who were "having fun."

Your idea of fun was different from mine.

I remember feeling as though you'd invite me out just so I could watch you dance with other guys. I was already uncomfortable being there, trying to cover my healing bruises and avoid eye contact. . . but you just had a certain pull on me. You were just like the last lover I had, and I knew it just by your manipulative ways. . . but that didn't keep me away.

I'd keep my back close to the sweating walls of the club, watching you feign as if you didn't see me. You always knew when I was looking, and I'd always catch you quickly looking away when I did glance at you.

I knew your game. You knew I was seeking some form of validation, especially after removing myself from my last relationship. . . yet, you just wanted to start another cycle on the brainwashing I endured. I didn't want to play into your sick games, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from you. Even when I could, the image of you with another was etched into my mind.

I watched you watch me watch you. You had the most devious smile on your face and the most lustful look in your eyes. You didn't want me. You wanted what I could do for you. . . but shit, I wanted the same thing.

I wanted to feel loved, even if it was synthetic— even if it was surface deep. And although your love was shallow, mine ran deep like oceans— as deep as your ocean. You never took me as seriously as I did you, but you were my drug and you were supposed to belong to only me.

I needed something for myself after having everything stripped away from me. I'd never been all that lucky, especially when it came to love.

At this point in my life, I was finally starting to rack up some money, and people knew it. I suddenly became the luckiest man in the room because of it. Sometimes I felt like it was that luck that drew you to me, in the first place.

But I didn't care. I finally had something for myself— someone to share my materialistic gain with. You were that someone, but in those four minute intervals that you shined your smile and your wined your waist to music, you were no one's but your own.