Aim to Please (wlw)

ch. 14 • broken records

AN: this is going to be a short one.

The universe really had it out for me. Here I stood, in the middle of my apartment, warily watching as my ex-girlfriend palmed at my shit. She caressed different surfaces, her fingerprints smudged the photos I had taken and framed.

"I didn't expect for you to let me in," Zoe commented bluntly as she walked around my apartment, aimless.

"The world already decided to fuck me today, so why not enjoy a little more punishment?"

"Well, aren't you snappy," she scoffed in return.

I sucked my teeth and stomped to my room, flinging myself onto the bed and allowing the blankets to swallow my body. Zoe continued to rummage around, but at this point, nothing mattered. All I wanted to do was sleep.

She was an asshole, but she wasn't a criminal.

"So— you just gonna let me shuffle around in your shit?"

"Does it matter?"

"Jesus, who pissed in your cornflakes?"

I sat up fast. She stood at my door, eyebrows raised in amusement. "Zoe. Please. Just be a piece of shit, scrounge up any ammo you may want, and leave."

"Ammo? Who said I'm looking for ammo? I have plenty." She planted her fists on her hips.

"Then why are you here, Z? Could you just...leave me alone?" I begged pathetically, fresh tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

"I wanted to see how you were doing, Bug," she murmured. "Something felt off when I thought of you. Obviously, my gut was right."

Bug. 'I love you to the moon and back, bug.' I shook my head to clear the memory that purged from the depths of my subconscious.

I flopped back down onto the bed, pulling the comforter over my head. "Whatever."

I felt the opposite side of the bed dip as she sat down. Her hand rubbed circles on my back and shoulder. Internally, I screamed. The only thing I wanted was to be alone, to rot in my bed without anyone near me. But I couldn't speak.

I knew what I wanted wouldn't matter.

It never did with Zoe.

"Where's your grandma— I mean, your girlfriend? Sorry," she apologized, cloyingly sweet and bitterly fake.

"She's not my girlfriend."

Zoe whistled, low and sharp. "Damn, that sucks, dude. She decided you weren't worth it? Oh, let me guess— she started fucking another woman?"

"Zoe, shut the fuck up," I whined, pulling my pillow over my ears.

"Damn. That's got to be record time— what did you do to turn her away? Honestly, knowing Laurie, it probably wasn't even you. She uses people, you know. I know about 6 different women—"

"Shut the fuck up," I howled, launching my fist and pillow into her head. I heard her grunt when I connected.

"I'm literally sitting here, telling you it isn't your fault— and you attack me? You've always been so goddamn stupid," she muttered.

The door intercom buzzed incessantly. I covered my ears, nails digging into my temples. My brain was a hamster wheel, ever revolving, cogs turning loudly with the desperate, screaming need for silence. Overwhelmed, I began to cry harder. The buzzing continued.

It felt like there were ants crawling under my skin. Hundreds and hundreds of ants, fire ants, stinging and crawling. My chest hurt from my harsh breathing, unable to produce enough oxygen. I was suffocating.