Sunday, 7 August 2016

We've all been broken. There is something in the polaroids we take of the ones we love. 9

 She crosses my mind far too often and I try to think properly if I've ever even had a crush on a girl, I've had them flung onto me but I would just push them away rather confused, trying to understand how would something feel natural when it just didn't seem like that to me. I just rub my eyes, far too many thoughts crawling into me and she seems somehow different, even if she's still a woman. The whole difference is my attraction to her and my clunky thinking. I can't think properly, my whole body is shaking and my mind is neurotic. I wouldn't even think that I would have find anyone to even cross my mind briefly, let alone someone who had tussled my insides.

Then the thought comes from pure boredom, because when you're bored-

I read once that when you can't write you should wank. I've done that in the past, but now my mind is too cluttered to even pick up the guitar and I hide my face in my hands, not even sure what is stirring inside me. I think of her talking to me lazily, her thick French accent and her lips, even her just breathing

I'm surprised at myself

I should've walked over her, so that she would lay between my legs

Maybe light a cigarette, allowing the scent to drench the room and she would watch me. I can see her drunk smile, her curious gaze

My mind shifts, no longer remembering how would I pull her towards me, hug her, kiss her neck, trace her back

I snap out of it, thinking that she would ask me to kiss her, literally, with a boner, sitting on the window sill. I press my back harder against the window, wishing it were open. Wishing that I could somehow have the courage to end it all. I always wondered how did people have the guts to do it. How little doubt did they have left. And in the darkest of times I admired them

I fell in love with a woman, if it were that easy to fall in love with, with every one night stand you have, with everyone who you cross the streets with.

“Fuck it.” I say under my breath, stretching my imagination as far as I can with Valentine back on the floor, her blouse undone, pants gone and taking off her underwear, spreading her legs to reveal herself to me.

Just the mere thought of her naked drives me wild-

I cross my legs, aching to touch myself, as my thinking goes on. I don't hold and unzip my pants, closing my eyes, biting my lower lip.

What would I want her to do? What would I do to her?

Everything seems new, as I imagine myself kissing her lower and lower, licking a trail until I reach her clit and suck on it. She tugs on my hair, pulling it, arching her back, as I slide fingers inside her.

In reality I should be rubbish at it, but I push my thinking away- thinking how good does it feel to stroke my cock to her-

I think of her gasping

I think of her moaning

I think of her clutching the rug under her

I want to give her pleasure, I want to slide in inside her

I want to

I want her.

I would fuck her hard, causing her to gasp, clutch the rug harder, moan


Grab me


I think of her coming

I gasp, bending forwards and coming all over my hand, even some on the fucking floor.

“Shit.” I say, still catching my breath and regret now picking me up, just like any other time when you have a wank to someone you really shouldn't. I don't even know how she feels about it, so why did I even bother? I check my phone to see literally nothing, feeling somewhere deep down something sad and bitter. I just let my hand hang loose, clutching it and feeling all the goo stick to my skin as it slowly starts drying up.

I breathe heavily, but I still bang her out a text, asking how is she doing. I click send and instantly feel regret, maybe I sent the text with the hope that somehow at least one of the two regrets will cancel the other. I don't even know how to act around her, what to ask and what to do now since I've officially done something. I feel like I should even call her, just to hear her voice and either stop my torture or make it much worse.

I feel like there's actually only two solutions to this and both seem to be torturous and embarrassing, but thankfully I don't call and I just want to see her again. I know that going to another of Arielle's party isn't a solution because it simply won't be in a while. But I could see it, I could see myself not caring about being Miles' pretend boyfriend and just tagging along with Valentine.

I think of being attracted to her so early, but then she had been trailing after me for a while and she had been suggested to me for a good while as well. I try not to think much of Miles and decide that perhaps it is better for me to wash my hand after all and the floor, at least scrub at it for a bit. And that's what I do, trying not to think much and neither do I jump on the phone, once I hear it give out a noise. I hold maybe for a minute at most, feeling guilty that I might just jump on it right away.

But it does feel to me like I do attack it far too fast, as I open the text and she tells me that she is doing well, no longer feeling the effects of excessive drinking we had done earlier, asking me how I am.

I just feel terrible over what I've done even if it's just between me and my thinking, that unless I tell anyone it's just like the thought never being a sin. Even if this is an action. I end up telling her that I feel well and I decide to stash the fact that I haven't been doing anything or even leaving the apartment, because I've decided to let the thoughts culminate inside me and give me such a result.

I don't know what to do at all, as I still keep the text open and I wonder what is the point of not inviting her over actually. Days are very long and they hold home to so many different things and in a day you could really die. I don't even know how to raise the subject as if I were twelve again and wondering how to sneak into another guy's room, but in this case it should be much easier, but I just feel in a terribly foreign territory. Which I somehow wandered upon with sticky hands apparently.

It all feels so deviant and already feels odd, it feels like everything I do is being in control somehow, it feels much less 50-50 but then it could be because it's my mind playing tricks with me.

I open the window and light a cigarette, telling myself that it would be the last time I would ever do this again. I hold the phone, pondering what to ask as there is nothing that I would reveal to her. There is absolutely nothing I would say. I just think of kissing her and all body language we could both share. I do ask her eventually, if she wouldn't mind joining me for another drink, saying that caffeine would probably be preferred and my hands itch to invite her over again, rather than stroll around the city. I wonder how much can she read between the lines. I wonder if I even leave anything to read between the lines and loneliness, with a zest of hope.

I think human attraction is a very odd thing, where we want to elope really badly and only then we can reveal our heart's desires and be vulnerable, but until then we end up hopping around, praying that we will get laid somehow. I get very paranoid over wanking off to a girl, though. It sounds awfully ridiculous and I don't know where my actual stance is on this whole situation. I know that I can't call Miles and frankly my only friend left right now is Valentine.

I get anxious just thinking over everything and I try to even focus to recall her text, so I have to open it again and I try to ponder on previous relationships how had everything started and it's always the same recipe, someone always goes after me and eventually I crack and the fact that I had gotten attracted to her much earlier makes me think far too much why did it take so long with Brian and why has it always been so messy with Miles. I blow smoke outside the window, not even bothering to leave the house for anything and I decide that I could order a pizza over, just to stay inside and let all of my anxiety run free as I would wait for her to join me, no matter how many days it would take. I wonder if it's okay if I live off takeovers until then.

I still didn't text her.

I feel like I'm a hamster in the wheel, not knowing why am I so happy about when I'm not doing anything, but then the hamster exercises, doesn't he?

I grab my phone and just press myself against the window frame, as I ask her whether she would like to meet again tonight. I don't hold it against me, but I do find is nosy and weird, well, I would, but if I were attracted to the person I would be happy that some glimpse of attention was shown towards me. But would that be enough?

I decide on a shower, which takes far too long and I don't even check the phone once it vibrates even if I had taken it with me to the bathroom, because I'm too scared of a refusal and everything. I just keep picturing her pondering what's up and why would I be asking for this. I wonder if this is how long it would take me to get over Brian in every situation imaginable or am I jumping on anyone even a girl, just because I don't want to face heartbreak under any circumstance?

And what if he does show up eventually and I'll be entangled in Valentine, would that end up with me being a cheater as well? Since it seems to be in fashion now. I ponder over Miles and Alex and how would their story end with Alex playing both Arielle and Miles, but that enevr excuses Miles' behavior and certainly doesn't Alex's.

In the end I shower with my head pressed heavily against the tiles, pondering about all the men and woman in my life. I don't even know how to feel about everything, as I just drop the towel over my shoulders and sit down. I decide that it's time to unwrap the text, so I do so, biting my bottom lip, as water just keeps running from me and I should really be more careful with my phone, but I don't regret reading her okay and I wonder if she even suspects anything at all and what could be going through her mind, so the next few minutes are done by arranging the time and since I didn't even touch anything there is nothing to clean up, besides dressing myself up.

But I can't help but wonder if Brian were to show up again, would I choose him over Valentine and over everyone else again? I dress up far too formal in a suit, before I take it off, telling myself that no one erased my sexuality and that thinking about it is for later, but I gingerly don't want to be the guy in a suit taking the girl out. Nothing wrong with doing that, but I feel far too scared of turning into something else, so I just smoke shirtless, tapping my fingers against the window sill and settling on a stripy shirt.


It took me a very very long while to get this chapter done as I started writing/pondering it in Spring I believe and overall I got super anxious about this story, since frankly this is the only Jamie/Valentine fic I've ever seen and I don't think anyone ships this oldie anyway xD so I kind of kept pondering a lot due to anxiety and looking back on my backstory, I was in a love-wise happier place, while now I'm stuck with no crushes, just some confusion with one person and all great with Callie as usual, so there's nothing to brag about or to drag new found love inspiration from, that's why Jamie ponders on the past so much at the end of it because I literally had only the past to rely upon. 

I wrote most of it recently, so yeah. 

Also this story is a very big pondering on sexuality and how it works. I look at my past where I've had women and countless men crushes and so on, but I went through oh so many labels, so I still think aloud even if Callie tells me that even Elton John had a wife. So that's most likely the case because I don't feel attracted to women at all now and I find it very hard to relate even, since I'm not attracted or am one. So this story is a big challenging at times, but I really love Valentine, God knows why, so that's why it's easier than it should've been and I really enjoy stories where people muse on their sexuality and so on, that's why I love this universe because we've got Alex and Jamie who are polar opposites here and at the same time in the same situation. 

Once I admit attraction to someone that's it, I'm fully smitten, so I gave that to Jamie here. 

I also haven't written a non-gay sex scene in ages. I really can't recall from the top of my head and it was well... fun and weird to write since the dynamics are different, but maybe I'm just saying this from sitting on my gay tower. 

I remember many years ago when me and Callie weren't out I bought a book about a lesbian who fell in love with some straight fella. The book was utter shit, but the thought of it stuck to me because me and Callie were still looking for labels both of gender and sexuality for one another, so yeah that was ages ago, that's how long ago it was. So the inspiration for Jamie's story is from looking for one's label. 

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please tell me so I don't swim in a sea of doubts xD



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