“Vince!” My eyes glittered, and my smile beamed right up at him when he came knocking at my door, without any proper call or text beforehand. Maybe he’d wanted to surprise me, I wondered, maybe we’d eat out, or have takeout while watching a movie?

My thoughts ran wild at the hopes I had, and after not having seen him for almost two weeks, Vincent looked especially handsome that day. His brown hair slicked back, strands falling into his face. He smelled so deliciously of that perfume he used, a scent I’d long gotten used to, and he wore a simple hoodie and jean combo, but even that made my heart flutter. 

“Vince, I was getting worried, since you weren’t texting me at all,” I mumbled, truthfully. “Were you busy? I honestly thought you were ghosting—“ 

Vincent didn’t say a single word, stepped through the door frame and into my cheap studio apartment, and his lips immediately shushed mine. Hungry and lustful, they wished to eat me up entirely, and his hands wrapped around my upper arms, forcing me to stumble back and into the corner where my mattress laid. 

Our kiss was paused when he thrust me onto it, ridding himself of his hoodie in the process. “You’re good to go, right? Turn around.” 

“… What? Can’t we talk first? I … I missed you, Vince.” 

“Let’s talk after. I missed you, too, that’s why I can’t hold back, alright?” 

“R-Really?” I blushed, and my heart fluttered up into the sky, millions of butterflies running loose inside of me, and those words alone convinced me to turn around onto my hands and knees, all so he could slip my pants off of me, and push his greedy, impatient self into me without any proper foreplay. 

“Please be gentle,” I moaned, dropping my head down onto my pillow, tears shooting up into my eyes. None of my clothes, he’d properly taken off. My face, he never even wanted to see. Once he entered me, always from behind, he didn’t even kiss me anymore. One of his hands held me at my waist, didn’t allow me to flee, and the other yanked my head back, clenching into my strawberry-blond hair rather roughly, and it honestly hurt, and it wasn’t pleasurable at all, the way Vince held me, and the way he cared so little about me. 

But I moaned for him, only for him to shut me up by thrusting my head back into the pillow, instead. “Gentle? Don’t you like it like this? You’re always ready for me, huh? Such a slut…Why’s it always so tight?” I grit my teeth, and waited for Vince to finish, my heart still hoping for that talk he’d promised after. He never even cared about me, whether I finished or liked it, he never asked me anything, so, why … ? Why did I like him, why did my heart choose him? 

No, I knew why. Vince was my senior in college, a year ahead of me, and he studied law, while I studied economics. He had passion for his degree, whereas I had none for mine; I was simply trying to get that degree, get a job to get by with, and that would be my life. But Vince looked eager and excited for his future, and when we had had a history class together he had avoided taking, he’d been nice to me, and had told me about his dreams and endeavors about making it big as a prosecutor. 

Back then, we had actually had conversations about our futures. We’d met for dinners and lunches even after our history class was long over, we had met along campus just to walk together. And one day in spring, with a gentle breeze and a fresh scent of grass, it had slipped out of me. 

“Vince, I love how ambitious you are. Honestly, I’ve liked you for a while…” 

“You like me?” He’d seemed surprised back then, but not appalled. He had gazed me up and down. “I don’t think I can date a man.”

“O-Oh … That’s … okay … We can stay friends, if that’s okay with you.” 

“But I wouldn’t mind trying, you know, something physical. If we’re a good match, maybe I’ll reconsider.” And so, I’d agreed to be his friend with benefits, but he never, ever responded to my feelings, and never decided to date me, even though he’d admitted it felt good. For him, at least, and so … we were a terrible match, because in the end, he only cared about himself. 

And I still hoped he’d pick me. I thought love was stronger than that, and the physical aspect wasn’t all that important. When we got closer, we could talk about it more openly, and experiment, and I was willing to give up my own satisfactions for him.

Almost a year of this horror, now, and we were exactly where this whole mess had started. When Vince finished, he laid beside me on my mattress for only a few minutes, didn’t even dare to touch me, and then rushed to get dressed. And since he never fully got undressed, that simply meant zipping up his jeans, buckling his belt, and reaching for his shoes. 

“Where are you going?” I wondered, rising into a seated position. “I thought we’d talk …” 

“Ah … next time. I have some assignments I got to finish.” 

I sulked, and already, my eyes burned redder and redder. “But …”

“Oh, and … Why I haven’t been texting.” Vince sighed, and didn’t even look at me. “Can you stop messaging me so much? And you’re calling me, even. It’s hard to explain what you want, and who you are.”

“W-What do you mean? Explain … ? Why can’t I call you?”

“My girlfriend, man. I told her we had a group project together, but if you keep—“ 

I slapped him across the face. My body moved all on its own when I did, and I regretted it right after when he stared at me with a blank expression, and didn’t even react. He seemed flustered, as if he didn’t know why he deserved it. “Y-Your … what?” 

“My—“

“You asshole! Why are you here, then, if you have a girlfriend?!”

“You kept calling me, telling me you want it!” 

“I never said that, you came here wanting it all on your own! But you piece of shit, cheating on that poor girl! If you’re taken, you should say so instead of coming here! Who is she? As soon as I find out, I’ll—“ I squeaked, and my eyes clenched shut when he yanked me towards him by the collar of my shirt, and I tumbled into his stronger arms, and felt his heated glare all over me. 

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed at me. “As if anyone would believe you, anyway.” 

I didn’t say it out loud, but I had pictures of him sleeping on my mattress, whenever he came over late at night, or when he was drunk, and he fell asleep after doing it, and I’d always thought he looked adorable. Those were the only proof I had of the nights we’d spent together. And our texts, I supposed, those dry, one-sided texts … 

Tears shot into my eyes. I’d always thought he was cute and admirable, but now … he was so, so ugly. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore,” I cried, voice cracking and stuttering every step of the way. Vince’s grip around my shirt loosened, and he simply gazed at me.

“Why?”

“You have a girlfriend!” 

“It’s just casual dating, what does it matter!”

“It matters to me!” A sob followed my pathetic voice, and ugly tears and snot slithered across my face. “I like you, no … I liked you. I told you that a year ago, and I kept telling you!” 

“And I gave you what you wanted, and now, you’re stopping it?”

“T-This isn’t what I wanted.” 

Vince only scoffed. “Sure. Your loss,” he muttered, only to leave without another word, and he even had the audacity to slam my apartment’s door shut so loudly, it echoed throughout the entirety of my little home, shaking me to my core. My knees grew weaker as soon as he left, and I dropped back onto my mattress and simply cried.