Perfect Angel

Perfect Angel (oneshot)

Once again, I sit waiting for him to arrive back home. He will eventually, smelling of some woman’s perfume no doubt. He’ll have a shower, kiss me, and go to bed. I know his routine.

The television hums and flickers neon lights in the living room, but I hardly notice. The hot chocolate in my hands is warm, I lift it, wait, then set it down again without taking a sip. My eyes close against the harsh florescent lights, and I sigh. My thoughts continue to fly past me, despite my efforts to simply hold onto to one, and set the rest of my confusion in a dark corner somewhere far away.

One thousand questions, all without answers, all without cause or reason. One thousand meaningless, pointless questions that will never be answered, because I am afraid to ask them out loud. He comes back every night, and hardly notices me. I’ll be standing with him, kissing him; but his mind is on the one woman he just left. I can still smell her on him when he walks through the door, a one time lover lingering on his skin along with the smell of sweat. He looks at me and smiles, he’s good at pretending. He tells me he’ll be in bed in a few minutes, after his shower. I always come later, when he’s finished making himself happy.

I can not say that I am unhappy, and that has to account for something. I have money in my pocket, a roof over my head. In the end it’s the same no matter who’s bed I’m sleeping in or why.

My mind spins and my stomach clenches, frail body resting on silk sheets. I smile, and burry my face in the pillow that has his scent on it, soap, and sweat, and somehow it eases my mind. I’m the one he’ll always come home too.
He walks through the door, no clothes, wet body, soft skin. I’m his Perfect Angel. Effeminate, smooth body, perfect smile. My eyes hide everything except that which he wants to see, not that he’d notice, but It helps me to forget just how much he hurts me, and that’s okay.

‘Love never does die a natural death.’ he whispers it in my ear. ‘It dies because of neglect, because it is forgotten or seen as unimportant.’ His arms trap me on the bed. ‘I have neglected you lately, and for that I am sorry. You will have to forgive me.’ I smile and nod at him, he is forgiven. He has remembered I am the one he sleeps with every night, no matter who his lover of the day might be.

‘Darling, you forgive me so quickly.’ he says, shocked, I can hear it in his voice. Had I done something wrong in forgiving him so quickly? My mind spins again, more, faster. ‘I am not done speaking. I must finish what I have to tell you before you can forgive me.’ A frown adorns his perfect face. I nod again, I will let him have his chance to talk. After all, it is not often that I get to hear him actually speaking to me. ‘they say that love always has a happy ending, darling, are you happy?’ It’s a rhetorical question, I say nothing, he expects me to say nothing. ‘being in love, can sometimes tear out your heart, or tear out the heat of that person you love. Do you realize how much I love you, my angel?’ Another rhetorical question, but I nod anyway, I do not know how much he loves me, I can only hope it is enough that he won’t ask me to leave.

‘Sometimes fate takes a cruel turn, and that person doesn’t love you back, not the way you want them too. I have come home night after night smelling of perfume, and you have never asked one question about it, not even mentioned it in the slightest. Why do you not love me, darling?’ His eyes burn holes through my skin, and his weight on my arms is beginning to hurt. My eyes stare wide, I do love him, does he not know that? I can not speak, my mind is suddenly blank. Nothing there to help me out, when only a few moments ago it was full.

‘So you see, all I wanted was your love, but I haven’t had it in a very long time. It’s a troubling issue, after all I have done for you, could you at least pretend?’ his voice is harsh now, not quite whispering, becoming louder with each word. ‘You have disgraced me. You are nothing more that a whore, and I will show you your place. To use people is not very nice you see Angel. In fact, it is sinful, and punishable by death, my Angel, you have used the wrong man.’

His breath is hot, I have not used him, he has used me. My body is lying in his bed, I am the one who waits for him. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, the echo thrumming through my ears, heat fills me. Tears flow freely for the first time in several months. Still, I can not speak, I can not defend myself.

My eyes close, I know it is coming, I am waiting for it. In the past I was to scared to do it for myself, to blind by the man who now holds the knife. I guess I liked the way he could drag me down, I guess I hate that he could make me love him, while I hated myself for letting him get away with whatever he wanted. I guess I like it when we fight.