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Break You Off
Maybe it's the case.
Maybe it's the way she seems to stand so strong, held high, shoulders set.
Maybe you want stability, but maybe you want to be able to fall apart.
Maybe it's because she's there and it's easy.
Maybe it's none of these things and maybe you're imagining every glance, every whisper, every ghost of a touch.
But maybe you're not.
Maybe it's the way she seems to glide, float, across every crime scene, unaffected untouched - by every dead body and mutilated corpse. Or maybe it's the way she can stand there, surrounded by death and destruction and not even flinch, because she's better than that, because she's better than letting the pain and the heartbreak and the evil get close to her.
Maybe it's because her eyes still sparkle when she smiles and maybe it's because you're jealous of that, maybe you want that, and maybe you want to take that from her, so that she's just like you.
Maybe it's because it hasn't really affected her yet and that pisses you off. Maybe she's just too damn perfect and you want to break her down and make her understand that it'll get to you, even if you try to stop it.
But maybe you like her that way, and maybe that's part of the mystery of her.
Maybe it's because you're jealous, because you used to be like that, but then there was this one time that you broke snapped in two and you haven't been the same since.
Maybe it's because she still has a bounce in her step and your feet hit the floor with such a force you can feel it rising back up into your knees.
Maybe you just want to break off a piece of her and see if she still stands whole.
Maybe that's why you kiss, press your body against her and back against the wall, trapping her in your anger and your pain and your disgust for what you let yourself become.
Or maybe you kiss her because you actually like her, and it's been awhile since you've felt that way about anyone and you just forget that kiss doesn't mean bite and caress doesn't mean bruise. Maybe you kiss her because you've been staring at her the entire case and she's been staring back at you, and she can read the words and phrases and sentences in your eyes. And maybe that draws you, because you're tired of having to spell out what you want, and now, at least, she knows what it is you're looking for.
Maybe it's because you want her and you don't want to feel, for just a night, and maybe you think she can be the kind of the person that can take the ache away and keep it away because all your other one night stands never last and the pain is still there in the morning.
Maybe she'll be more than a one night stand.
But maybe she won't.
Maybe you kiss her because she lets you she lets you abuse her the way you are, kneading her flesh too roughly and biting down on her shoulder too hard. Maybe it's because she's not actually letting you, but she knows that this is going to happen and there's nothing she can do to stop it.
Maybe you lie in bed later, still wrapped in her arms, still tangled in her sheets, because you would feel awful if you left her feeling cheap.
Maybe you lie in bed later, and you stay because you like being in her arms, and in her sheets.
Maybe you're just too tired to move.
Maybe if you hadn't stayed, you wouldn't have heard her in the next room, in the early morning, as she cried softly into her hands, wrapped in a discarded sheet. Maybe you wouldn't have seen that she's not as strong as you, and that even if she just came off a desk job and she was fine, she really isn't fine. Maybe you wouldn't have noticed that she's just as damaged as you are, if you hadn't stayed.
But you did, and maybe that's good, because maybe you can start there and maybe you can get through each day.
But maybe you can't, because you needed someone strong and maybe you're finally realizing she's not the one.
Maybe that's why you leave, because she's not what you thought she would be, and maybe that's why you never touch her that way again, because she's just as spoiled as you are.
Maybe you just wanted to break off a piece of her and see if she still stood whole.
It's a disappointment that she breaks just as easily as you.
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