Page 5 of Love Sick
I hear it.
I feel it.
I am one again.
I see Luna.
I feel her.
She is in every breath I take.
She is in every beat of my heart because it’s her heart too. It’s made up of her blood, her body. It’s because of her that I am alive. What we share stems so deep, deep enough that our connection is sealed with a bloodied kiss.
I see Luna, and I hear music…it’s all around me.
I am home.
“No, no…I can’t! I’m sorry.”
And just like that, the needle drags across the record and the music is replaced with reality.
Alanna leaps off the bed, wiping her hands on her skirt in disgust. If I cared, I would be offended she appears to want to erase me away. But she can’t. Her flustered cheeks and shortness of breath reveals her true feelings.
“I’m sorry, Jonathan. Forgive me.” She begins pacing the room, wringing her hands in front of her. “It didn’t mean anything. He didn’t even come.”
I settle back against the pillows with a smirk. I shouldn’t take great pleasure in seeing her upset, but call me a bastard because I do.
“No, of course not,” she says, talking to Jonathan. “I don’t love him more than you.”
Jesus fucking Christ, this would be comical if I wasn’t tied to a bed.
“Don’t say that!” she cries, storming for his bed and dropping to her knees, hands interlaced. “I loveyou. I am doing all of this foryou.”
I look at Jonathan and wonder what he would say if he could talk.Maybe let me rot in peace?
“You want me to prove it? Okay, fine, I will.”
She springs up and violently opens the drawer of the metal bedside table. She frantically hunts through it and when she grabs the container of Vaseline, I’m glad I declined eating because I would throw it up any second now.
It’s like a car crash—I should look away, but I can’t, and that’s because there is no way Alanna is going to do what I think she’s going to do.
She shimmies her red underwear down her legs before pulling up the hem of her dress. She yanks the sheet off Jonathan, and my mouth actually drops open when I see his wrinkled dick is erect. I don’t want to know what’s inside of it to keep it that way because it’s just fucking…gross.
She scoops a blob of Vaseline on two fingers and begins rubbing it onto his shriveled cock.
I dry retch because no, just fucking no…
When it’s shinier than Rudolph’s nose, she climbs onto the bed and hikes up her dress, exposing her ass, before sliding down onto his dead dick.
A moan leaves her before she begins to move.
I suddenly wish I was dead because I can never unsee Alanna fucking a corpse.
“I love you. No one but you,” she says between moans.
At this point, Jonathan would probably be more verbal than me because I am speechless.
She continues riding him wildly, unbothered that she’s the one doing all the work. I suppose she’s used to it.