You could never be too careful in situations like these. Always hide the evidence.
"One day you'll realize that you're just bitter." I held the sheet close to my body as I searched the pile of clothing on the floor for my jeans.
"I'm not bitter," He stated, "I just know better now."
"The you from six years ago would hate the you now. He would call him a pussy." I told him matter of factly as I kept searching for my jeans. Pete and I always fought like this after we had sex. It's because we had no basis for a friendship. Our entire relationship revolved around bedrooms and doing things that people don't talk about.
"The you in six years will hate the you now. She will call you an idealistic moron." He handed me my jeans and I slipped them over my hips discreetly under the covers. I wonder what made him so negative and bitter towards music and everything else that once made him happy, but that's not place. His wife can wonder that. That's her part of Pete to be concerned with. Like I said, I just have his body and late nights, and that is more than okay with me.
"Music makes people feel things, Pete. There's no harm in that." I pulled my tank top over my head and looked at him inquisitively.
"Music gives people false hopes, Scarlet. It makes them think that there is meaning in every word, in every note, when sometimes, there just isn't. Sometimes everything really just means nothing." Pete grabbed the condom wrapper and threw it into the trash, the removed the trash bag from the can and tied it up with intentions of taking it to the dump later. You could never be too careful in situations like these. Always hide the evidence.
"I believe that there is meaning in every word." I spoke the words I honestly believed and leaned down until my head hit the soft pillow.
"You would." He retorted. He dropped his jeans and walked slowly over to the bed.
"But that's why you keep me around. I remind you of someone you once knew. Someone like yourself. Someone who believed in things bigger than herself." I hooked my fingers on his belt loops and pulled him down on top of me.
"I keep you around, Ms. Caelum, because you're so good at quickening my heart rate." He smirked, inches away from my face.
"Don't forget how amazing my fingers feel running over your--" He cut me off by attacking my lips with his. In an hour or two, this would all be over. In an hour or two, none of this will exist. Pete will leave my apartment and return home to his wife. In an hour or two, I'll go back to work at the cafÃ© and serve kids like myself coffee and write articles for the magazine I contribute to on breaks. I'll smile and laugh and feel alive and Pete will show up at the local bar and drink and roll his eyes and kids like me. In an hour or two, we won't know each other. In an hour or two, things will go back to how they should be