Tumgik
#i'm not tagging this and have carefully avoided using actual ship names in order to avoid bothering people who ship these.
ocpdzim · 2 years
Text
Actually, DS9 is pretty much the only show I have watched where I have had opinions on ships besides “I hate them” or “They seem good for each other so I GUESS it’s fine but I’d rather look at something else.” These are as follows:
Most of the canon endgame ships, including Jadzia and Worf because I think getting married and remaining married until one of you dies counts as endgame, are actually pretty cute and I did not hate watching them (this is high praise for a ship coming from me). My favorite of them from a character standpoint is Ben and Kasidy, which tbh is also the only one I wasn’t immediately irritated by when it first started. The others I was annoyed with at first but eventually came around to, and ultimately they are mostly pretty well written too.
The only major canon ship I REALLY DON’T like at all is Ezri and Julian. I feel like they will commit so many medical ethics violations because due to lack of other providers they are literally each other’s doctor and therapist and both have a HISTORY of committing medical ethics violations when treating people they are close with (Ezri just generally, Julian specifically with romantic interests). Also it was so forced and rushed. Maybe it could’ve been fine if they’d had like an entire extra season to flesh it out but I would honestly have preferred if they just didn’t do it at all. Also I feel like poor Ezri should’ve gotten like a year to just exist and figure out her issues before being shoved into any relationships AND before returning to work as a therapist because holy shit she fucked up administering therapy so bad so many times.
The one non-canon ship I most think should have been canon if the writers had dared to because it would’ve actually worked really well is the O’Brien polycule. Miles and Keiko clearly care about each other a lot yet have kind of an unstable relationship as it is, but every time they bring a third person into it, it seems to help significantly. They should stay married but Miles should also date Julian and Keiko should also date Kira who is also dating Odo. I think this would eliminate like 90% of drama in these characters’ relationships and generally improve station morale.
Julian and Garak was fun when I was watching the show and discussing it with friends, I guess I would’ve liked to see it in the show if it was handled well because they have an interesting dynamic and it would’ve presumably put an end to the parade of really insufferable “Julian has a crush... on DAX and/or a GIRL WE NEVER SAW BEFORE” events, but at this point I have seen way too many out of character incorrect quotes posts about it clogging the tag and so now I’m kind of tired of it. I get the appeal but let’s post about something else sometimes. Alternatively, let’s make posts about the ship that incorporate the characters’ actual personalities even a little bit. Either is fine.
Quark and Odo should NOT date because Odo would not treat Quark right and Quark would not treat anyone right. Quark wants a relationship so bad but I think he is just way too much of an asshole to everyone he cares about and should be banned from romance forever, sorry Quark. However, and this is crucial, the ship is such an incredible comedy setup that I am still generally happy to see posts about it anyway. “Quark and Odo try dating but they are really bad at it and have a nasty breakup” would also have been a viable episode plot and a fantastic addition to the “Quark fucks up an attempt at romance really bad” episode collection.
Sisko and Dukat is a terrible ship if it’s requited, because Sisko not only deserves better than that but also has too much of a moral backbone to ever even consider dating a person who sucks as bad as Dukat does. HOWEVER, it is funny when people write Dukat as having just an absolutely doomed and miserable one-sided crush on Sisko, who just straight up hates him and has no positive feelings towards him at all. And honestly? Considering what we know about Cardassian flirting and what we know about the horrendous way Dukat treats women he canonically has massive unrequited crushes on, you could make a good argument that "Dukat has a massive unrequited crush on Sisko and is handling it so badly and that’s at least partially why he did this” is a valid read of several of his actions in the show.
I have no real interest in a ship between Jake and Ziyal for its own sake; it’s been boring in every way I’ve seen it presented even though one could in theory do interesting things with it. HOWEVER since the writers were so determined to introduce weird fucking horrible to watch romance subplots for these characters (all of which were thankfully brief, but like, still awful), I think it would’ve improved the show if they were in a relationship simply by virtue of the fact that they were around the same age.
5 notes · View notes
delaber · 3 years
Text
Can’t Have Your Cake and Another Cake Too
Rafael Casal x Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Note: Okay, I’ll stop breaking Rafa’s heart now... Last time, I swear! Thanks for the prompts to these lovely anons. Alhough this is not a prequel to Poetic Justice (Rafa x ER Nurse), poor Rafa’s facing some of the same issues. I very loosely based this story on J. Cole’s Kevin’s Heart (don’t know why I’m always incorporating J. Cole into my fics, but apparently he’s always lurking in the back of my mind) and Phlake’s So Faded. Let me know what you think!
Words: 4.7K
Warnings: Cocaine addiction! Does not have a happy ending (nobody ODs and nobody’s dying ...Only on the inside lol)
Tagging: No one! This might not be for everybody and I don’t want anybody to feel forced to read it 😌
Tumblr media
It was supposed to be a great night out. The entire gang was there, and at the instigation of Diggs, Rafa was supposed to be on the prowl to get laid so he could take his mind off of his broken heart.
From his seat in the booth, Rafa had a fairly good view of the dance floor and he had already spotted a few honeys who likewise had acknowledged him by smiling and sending him a couple of long looks. One of them had even twirled her hair between her fingers while blowing him a kiss. He had the green light, all systems were go!
However, of all the things that could've thrown him off his game, Rafa would not have placed a single bet on a phone call. But the minute he pulled out his vibrating phone and checked the caller ID, both the group of honeys on the dance floor and his friends occupying the seats all around him were completely forgotten. Nothing else mattered anymore.
He stared at the screen for a while, reading the name over and over again. What the fuck was Morris calling him for? Rafa had told him to stop. Morris knew he was too weak to say no even though he had promised his girl that he'd stop for good.
...Or, you weren't his girl. Not anymore.
But Rafa was still determined to win you back no matter if you had stopped answering his phone calls or not, so he took a tough decision and pressed the decline button beneath Morris' name. He even contemplated putting his phone on flight-mode to remove all unwelcome temptations - he knew you'd never take him back if he fell back in - yet, for some reason taking himself off the grid was easier said than done, and before he had pulled himself together to actually press the little airplane button, a text from Morris had ticked in. It only consisted of two words but Rafa understood perfectly.
'New candy.'
Fuck... Rafa considered the pros and cons of accepting for a few milliseconds before he came to his senses. No, no, no. The only way he'd ever win you back would be by showing you that he could stay sober even after your break-up. Morris could fuck off! As if awaking from a trance, Rafa hurriedly put his phone back in his pocket and desperately tried to forget about Morris' enticing offer by telling himself that he was strong enough to shake it.
...although deep down, he was aware that it was already too late. That no matter what, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it now. And no matter how hard he tried to re-focus on the honeys on the dance floor and tell himself how stupid it was to hit Morris up, it was no use, the damage was done; he was desperate to get high!
Deeply, horribly ashamed of himself, Rafa texted Morris the address of the club and impatiently waited a couple of minutes before he walked outside with heavy footsteps. It felt as if he was walking to the gallows, the shame eating him up from the inside. You'd be so disappointed in him!
However, in order to make himself accept what he was about to do, he reminded himself that apparently, you didn't care if he was high or not. If you did, you would've returned his phone calls, and you would've reacted to the fact that he had been sober for three weeks now - but you hadn't. And with that in mind, Rafa managed to push away most of the shame as he laid eyes on Morris' sketchy Subaru parked by the curb on the other side of the road. He walked across the street with determined footsteps, carefully looking over his shoulder to check if anybody he knew were watching him approach what was clearly a dealer's car.
"What's up, bruh!" Morris called as he rolled down his window. He was wearing sunglasses, looking like an absolute turd in the dark night.
Rafa put his arms on the car's beltline and shot Morris a bro handshake through the open window, "what the fuck are you wearing sunglasses at night for? You look like a dick."
"Nah, man, it looks cool," Morris laughed, "do you like them? Hell, you should like them - you paid for them."
"What do you mean I paid for them?"
"With the amount of money you spend in my shop, I think it's safe to assume that you paid for these sunglasses and the rims on the ride too," Morris snorted.
"Yeah, about that," Rafa looked away, the embarrassment slowly creeping up his spine again, "you gotta stop calling me."
"You said that last time as well but look at you now," Morris laughed.
"Come on man, it's important that I stop."
"You don't wanna stop though."
Rafa let out a sigh, "look, I'm trying to prove something to my girlf- ...ex-girlfriend."
"A'ight, I respect that," Morris nodded slowly but then he quickly continued, "so did you just call me here to pin your lady troubles on me? Cause I have a customer waiting up on Seventh Ave."
Rafa blew out some air, embarrassed by the decision he was about to make.
"...Or do you wanna buy?" Morris continued as he read Rafa's body language.
"...you're not gonna tell Diggs are you?"
"Do I look like a fucking snitch?" Morris looked offended, "and you know me and Diggs don't talk no more."
"Yeah, alright. This stays between us, okay? If word gets out, I'm fucked."
"A'ight bruh," Morris laughed, "Now, how much do you need?"
"Just... just give me an eightball," Rafa mumbled.
Morris let out a small laugh, "an eightball? Man, you're not about to quit," he chuckled and handed Rafa a zip-lock bag with white powder in it.
"Shut up," Rafa mumbled and pocketed the baggie, "how much?"
"Rafa, you're my man, so I'mma give you a discount because I feel bad for you and your girl. Three hundo."
"Three hundred?! Last time it was two-eighty without the discount."
"Times are changing. I haven't seen you in three weeks, man. Plus, this is a good batch," Morris poked Rafa in the chest, "my contact got it shipped in directly from Medellín. Look, it got fish scale and everything!"
"You better not fuck me over," Rafa muttered and threw Morris three hundred-dollar bills before he turned away from him with an annoyed huff.
"Pleasure doing business as always, Casal! See you next weekend!" Morris yelled after Rafa with a small laugh, apparently not a care in the world for who knew about their illegal transaction.
"Fucking idiot," Rafa muttered to himself without turning around. He had more important things to do than to scold Morris about his indiscretion.
Rafa hurried to the restroom and carefully locked the door behind him before he frantically pulled out the zip-lock bag. He examined its contents and saw the pearl-like surface that Morris had talked about - Fuck it looked good! He opened the bag carefully but froze when he caught his own reflection in the bathroom mirror; the loving look he was sending the bag of coke was sickening. It made his stomach plummet. Had he really been reduced to snorting coke alone in a dirty bathroom of a sketchy club? He remembered when it had been a group activity. Before he couldn't control it.
Shake it off! He told himself. He had every intention of stopping after tonight. This would be the last time.
You said that last time as well, a small voice rang in the back of his head, but he ignored his guilty conscience and instead poured out a small pile of the pearl-like coke on top of the hand dryer. Quickly, he pulled out a random card from his wallet and used it to form two heavy lines. Before his guilty conscience could interfere again, he also grabbed a one-dollar bill that he neatly rolled into a small tube and put between his right nostril and one of the white lines, ready for the rush. His gaze, however, lingered on the random card he had used to break the coke into lines; it was his fucking rewards card for the small organic, artisan shit coffee house that you liked. What wouldn't you say if you knew what he was doing? In his mind's eye, he could see the disappointed look you always sent him whenever he'd come home all hyped up, rambling his mouth off. You never got angry with him and his love of coke, but somehow your disappointed demeanour was way worse. He would've taken screaming and yelling over the disappointed stare and the slow shake of your head any day.
Slowly, he removed the dollar-bill from his nostril, stood up straight and met his own eyes in the mirror again - and for a moment, he could truly see how pathetic he was. What the hell was he doing? He was throwing away his last shot at getting you back - and for what? A few hours of euphoria and confidence?
But she doesn't want you back, a small voice rang inside his head, you called, and you called, and you called. You declared yourself clean to her voicemail and she still didn't reach out. Fuck her!
"Yeah, fuck her," Rafa mumbled before he put the dollar-bill back to his nostril. Quickly, he snorted both lines of coke, shooting his head back afterwards, sniffling a bit as he cleaned his nose with the back of his hand. He knew he only had a couple of minutes before the euphoria kicked in, so he quickly brushed off the dollar-bill and the rewards card and tugged them both back in his wallet. The remainder of the coke was stowed away in his shirt's breast pocket for safe keeping.
Ready for the rush, Rafa was impatiently staring at himself in the mirror. He was thinking about how to avoid Diggs and his condescending looks for the duration of his high, when he was finally overwhelmed by the familiar fuzzy feeling. It came out of nowhere and started behind his eyeballs and continued all the way down to his toenails. It felt as if someone had pulled a large, fluffy blanket down over him, and it was slowly heating up his body, making him feel safe and secure. His pulse quickened in time with his breathing, and he had to close his eyes to get himself under control. He felt fucking powerful! Morris had not lied about this coming from a good batch. "Shit, Morris," he laughed.
There was a knock on the door, and Rafa remembered that he had occupied the men's room for a good five minutes now. He took a last look at his suddenly hazed eyes, aware that no matter how hard he tried to hide it, anyone could see that he was high as a kite. He contemplated riding out his high alone in the bathroom but also knew that with the amount of energy present in his body, he couldn't stay in the small restroom all night. He had to dance! To fuck! To fight!
With a suddenly confident bounce in his step, he opened the door, and sent the guy in line what he hoped was an apologetic nod before he confidently strode towards the honeys on the dance floor.
"Hey Rafa!" he heard someone yell behind him.
Hoping it was someone who wanted to fight, Rafa quickly turned around but was slightly disappointed to see Diggs coming towards him with a huge grin on his face. Shit! Rafa realised that he had to act nonchalant around his best friend. Diggs absolutely couldn't know about the coke in his breast pocket, or he'd be all up in Rafa's face about it.
"Diiiiiggs! My man!" Rafa yelled overly excited, clearly very, very high.
Diggs shot him a look at his weird behaviour before he continued, "where've you been, man? I've been looking for you everywhere."
"R-r-r-r-r-r-r-rrrrrrrestroom," Rafa laughed, he was too happy to pretend otherwise.
"Why are you saying it like th-" the huge grin was slowly slipping from Diggs' face, "...hey, Rafa - look at me," Diggs suddenly sounded all serious as he took Rafa's face in his hands, carefully examining his features, "Rafa, look at me."
Rafa let out a low chuckle, "Diggs, you know I think you're handsome and all that, but I don't like you that way," he joked.
"You're being weird," Diggs furrowed his eyebrows, "- and your pupils are huge. Have you been doing lines in the bathroom?"
"Maybe," Rafa laughed, unable to stop himself from revealing his dirty little secret, "why? You want some? I still have a few hits left," he padded his breast pocket.
"You know I don't do that shit anymore..." Diggs let go of Rafa with a sigh and looked away from him.
"Oh yeah, I forgot you're a fucking saint now," Rafa said a bit more harshly than he had intended to. Ever since Diggs had met Emmy, he had been boring as hell.
Diggs chose not to comment on Rafa's low blow, and managed to keep his calm, "I thought you'd stopped, bruh."
"Morris made me an offer I couldn't refuse," Rafa laughed in an accent halfway between Tony Montana and Vito Corleone.
"Yeah well, I'm not the only one who thought you were done fucking around," Diggs said seriously. He was having none of Rafa's jokes, "I just saw your girl downstairs. She wants to talk to you."
It took a few seconds before Rafa understood, but when he finally grasped Diggs' words, he felt the blood drain from his face and his mouth run dry, "what? No, you're kidding me..."
"Nope," Diggs sighed, "I've been running around trying to find you for fifteen minutes..."
"Shit! What the fuck do I do?" Rafa said in a panicked voice, licking his lips frantically, "I told her I was sober! If she sees me like this, she'll never take me back."
"Yeah, well you better pray that you don't run into her."
Rafa ran his hand through his hair, "fuck I'm screwed. She's downstairs?"
"Was fifteen minutes ago."
"Alright, I'm jumping out this window. You stall her, tell her that I got sick or something."
"You can't jump out this window?" Diggs said incredulously, "we're 50 feet up, if you do that, you die! Just walk out the doo- ...oh shit, dude, we're blown. She's here. She's coming over."
"Fuck! Can I still bolt?"
"Of course not!"
"Well how do I look? Alright?"
"You look-" Diggs cut himself off, "...maybe just try and avoid her looking into your eyes, okay?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"
"The light in here's paying you a favour but apart from that you're gonna have to pull yourself together. You brought this upon yourself," Diggs said harshly before his demeanour changed completely as his eyes interlocked with yours over Rafa's shoulder, "heeeeey," he smiled broadly, "look who I found."
Rafa slowly turned around and met you. Your stunning beauty - as always - immediately knocking him to the ground. He couldn't believe that it had been four weeks since the last time he'd seen you. He'd do anything to get you back!
"Rafa," you nodded formally with a stiff face. Rafa couldn't help but make a mental note on how weird it was to see you without a smile on your lips. You were normally always so happy. He had done this, he reminded himself.
"Hey baby," he whispered, the words weirdly familiar in his throat.
You briefly raised your eyebrows while looking away from him, clearly uncomfortable by the sound of your old pet name.
"Sorry," he continued, "force of habit. ...I'm just happy to see you."
Your gaze slowly found his face, and Rafa prayed that you couldn't see his coke-eyes from where you were standing.
"Well..." you said and clicked your tongue, "I'd like to talk to you."
"I'd like to talk to you too," Rafa said quietly.
"And you're sober? Like you said on my voicemail?"
"Yes," Rafa breathed, "completely sober," he lied thickly, hyper-aware of how awkward it was with Diggs shuffling nervously beside him. He was uncomfortably rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet.
"Good," you finally let out a small smile, "do you want to sit down?"
"Yeah," Rafa nodded.
"Yeah, I'll - uh - I'll leave you to it," Diggs cleared his throat and padded Rafa between the shoulder blades as a way of wishing him good luck.
"Thanks man," Rafa muttered before he followed you down to a vacant booth in the corner of the room. Instead of sitting down opposite you, he made sure to occupy the seat next to you, hoping that it would minimise the risk of you looking into his eyes. He just had to pretend that he was sober until the high quieted down. Fourty-five more minutes - Less if he was lucky.
"So, how've you been?" You said quietly as you were both overlooking the dance floor, avoiding looking directly at each other.
"Not good," Rafa said quietly, "like shit, actually... how about you?"
"Yeah, well I guess 'shit' sums it up neatly... How's sober life?"
"Oh, it's - yeah - it's - it's great!" He said, the lie thick in his throat, "I feel so much better now." He knew how much he had hurt you, and he knew how difficult it must be for you to face him after you'd said that you never wanted to see him again - which just really only made his lying so much worse. Fuck, how he hated himself for what he had done. What he was still doing.
Your eyes darted across his face before your gaze settled on a spot just below his chin. He was relieved that you weren't staring him square in the eyes. "I was so happy to hear your voicemail," you whispered, "you really flushed your stash?"
"Yes," he croaked.
"I'm glad that you're finally taking care of yourself," he couldn't make out your face in the dark but he could hear a hint of happiness to your voice that you were clearly trying to suppress. It made him feel horrible.
"Yeah, I want to stay sober for you," he said slowly. At least that wasn't a lie.
"You have no idea how happy that makes me," you said quietly, the happiness definitely shining through now.
Rafa's heart was fluttering in his chest, and he felt the coke-induced euphoria run amok in his brain, "...does that mean you'll forgive me?" All his senses were heightened.
"It's a step in the right direction" you said quietly, still not looking directly at him, "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too baby," Rafa said quietly and boldly took your hand in his.
Finally, you looked up at him, and to avoid you noticing his bloodshot eyes with the dilated pupils, he took a quick decision, leaned in and crashed his lips against yours.
Luckily, you mistook his desperation for passion and fiercely kissed him back, your hand releasing itself from his, and instead caressing his neck. In-between kisses you managed to mumble, "I'm still... mad... at you."
"I know," Rafa mumbled, enjoying the familiar feeling of your lips against his. Your hands switched to caressing his torso, and your small fingers travelled over his stomach and up his chest, coming to a halt over his heart. It was racing against his ribcage and he had no idea whether it was due to the coke or due to the heap of emotions he felt in his chest. He couldn't believe he was kissing you again. He had completely written it off no more than half an hour ago.
Your right hand moved away from his heart but came to a sudden halt when you felt a small bump in Rafa's breast pocket. Still kissing him, you ran your fingers over the bump a few times before you remembered that it was where he always kept his coke. Quickly, you pulled your lips away from his.
"Wait, no, don't take kissing away from me," he hummed, completely unaware of the discovery you'd just done.
You were looking at his euphoric face with the closed eyes and the swollen lips as you moved your hand over his breast pocket once more.
When Rafa realised what was going on his eyes flew open and he spluttered, "it isn't what you think!"
But he was too slow to react, and before he had had the chance to move away, your fingers went inside his breast pocket and grabbed the small bag from there. "You've got to be kidding me!" You said angrily as you held his coke between your fingertips.
"Baby, I can explain," Rafa said quickly while desperately grabbing your wrist.
"Rafa, you fucking idiot! Don't touch me!" You wrestled yourself out of his grip, got up from your seat, and fast-paced towards the door.
"Baby! Baby!" Rafa yelled out as he ran after you.
"Don't touch me!" You cried, attracting the attention of everyone in your path.
You stormed out the door, Rafa at your heel desperately clinging to every inch of you that he could reach. When you reached the curb outside, he finally managed to run up in front of you, stopping you in your tracks, "baby, I can explain!" He said desperately.
"You said you'd flushed it all!" You were screaming at him now, the tears running down your face.
"It was a mistake, baby, I swear I didn't mean to. I flushed it all, I promise. It's just a setback."
"When did you buy this, Rafa?" You said through gritted teeth, "how long did you manage to stay sober before you decided you wanted to throw it all away?"
Rafa looked away from you, he was so embarrassed by himself, "Morris called and I tried to say no, I really did! Baby, I tried so hard to resist it. But he was persistent."
"Well, did he force you to buy?" You hissed. You were having none of his excuses.
"...No." Rafa admitted.
"When did you buy it?" You emphasised every word, "before or after you called me last weekend?"
"After..."
"When? How long after? When did you have your setback?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes! I need to know if you did it because you were physically craving it, because you just felt like getting high, or if you did it because you’d thrown the thought of us away when I didn’t answer you.”
"I tried to fight it, I swear I tried to fight it," he was getting choked up.
"Rafa, tell me when you bought it."
He considered shooting you a lie but he didn't want to fuck up any more. "I bought it tonight..." he finally muttered under his breath, avoiding your gaze.
"You're not serious!! You bought it tonight?" You bellowed, "are you trying to tell me that you planned on throwing away your soberness tonight? That if I hadn't shown up, you'd be high as balls right now?"
Rafa didn't say anything, he just looked at you with huge eyes, the embarrassment evident on his face - and first then did you notice his blood-shot eyeballs with the abnormally large pupils that had taken over most of the green that was normally present.
"No..." you whispered when you realised, "no, no, no..." you groaned quietly, clutching your chest, "you're high right now?" The heartbreak was evident in your voice.
Rafa sent you a pained look. He fucking hated himself.
"You're high..." You stated in a whisper, the tears were streaming down your face, "you lied."
He had broken your heart. Again.
"I - I didn't mean to," he croaked, "I was just so happy to see you. I knew you wouldn't want to talk to me if I told you the truth."
"So you planned on telling me when?"
"I don't know," he croaked, "I didn't think it through. I've been sober for three weeks. Tonight's just a small setback. Baby, I swear, I'll block Morris and I'll flush this baggie right now if I can just get you back," Rafa was begging, “I’ll stop if you tell me to!”
"Rafa, how many times do I have to tell you," you cried, "You have to stop because you want to. Not because I tell you to stop! I don't care about the snorting! I don't care that you party and get high! You've done lines of my tits several times for God's sake! But I can't live with the constant lying that has become part of it!"
Fuck, Rafa knew what you were building to. His life's biggest mistake. He had it coming, he knew it. He deserved it. He was a fucking cheating coke-head and he hated it. "Please don't bring it up," he sobbed.
You didn't listen to him. You had to confront him with it because he clearly hadn't understood. "Rafa, you fucked another girl! And you were so high that you didn't even realise it! And when you woke up the next day and saw what you'd done, you lied about your whereabouts and the fact that you'd been high as fuck! I had to learn about it through her!" You were sobbing, "...and instead of staying home and comforting me, you lied about having to go to the studio, and you met up with Morris and you got high! Again! If knowing that you're breaking my heart with your constant lies doesn't make you want to quit, I'm not sure what will."
"I want to stop!" he sobbed. He had never felt so horrible before, "I love you, I want to be with you," he sniffled and took your hand, "please give me another chance! I'll stop snorting. I'll stop lying. I'll do anything for you."
It looked as if you were contemplating his words but the look in your eyes darkened suddenly and you let out a whisper, "no Rafa!" as you pulled your hand away from his.
"Baby, please!" He pleaded desperately, "I love you."
"You love coke more," you whispered.
"I have a problem," Rafa tried desperately, "I know. I can't stop. But I'll get help. I'll do whatever you want me to do!"
"Rafa, if you stop snorting because I tell you to stop, it will never last! You love getting high!"
"That's not true... it's pathetic," he cried.
"Rafa, honey,” you said quietly, “- ask yourself this; would you be throwing away this baggie and deleting Morris' number if I wasn't leaving you because of it?"
"Yes," he croaked immediately.
You took a deep breath of air, hurt written all over your face, "Love," you sighed desperately as a fresh wave of tears started streaming down your face, "you're lying again..." you sobbed, and put the baggie in the palm of his hand and folded his fingers around it.
"I'm flushing it," he croaked.
"Do whatever you want," you whispered and looked him in the eye, "We're not together anymore. I'm done - it's over,” you said as you slowly turned around and started walking away from him.
“No, no, no! Please come back!”
“No Rafa… This time I'm serious,” you said before you started walking again.
This time, Rafa didn't run after you. He just watched you walk further and further away from him as your hands dried the tears off of your face every two seconds. He imagined you stopping, imagined the hurt look you'd send him. How he'd run over to you and take you in his arms. Imagined how he'd apologise and you'd both hug and cry and kiss it out. But you didn't stop. You didn't send him any look at all. And he didn’t run to you, he was glued to the pavement.
He stood as if frozen in time and looked after you even long after you'd disappeared around the corner. Suddenly, however, he noticed that he was still clutching the baggie in his closed fist. Slowly, he opened the palm to reveal the beautiful mother-of-pearl-coloured powder. He contemplated dropping it down the gutter next to him. It would all be so easy.
But instead, he closed his fingers around it and pocketed it right above his broken heart. It would help relieve the terrible thunder that he felt rolling over him. It brought along a storm of emotions. A hurricane of regrets. And he was desperate to get high.
89 notes · View notes