Stiletto
Kick off your stilettos
And -==- me in the back seat.
Not falling in love
Just falling apart.
When I met him, I was drunk; my brain was about as solid as an egg yolk splayed out on a sidewalk. I hated who he was, and I could tell without even reading him. He moved like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread, and he knew it. Disgusting. He could have his choice of any girl in the place, but like some kind of guided missile he knew exactly which one would give him the most shit, and he picked me out.
Lucky him, I was pissed enough not to fight like I should have, like I could have. Stupid god damned Kara-ni, trying to control my fucking life. Yeah, so I was only seventeen. I was a fucking killer, and that gets you grown up pretty god damn fast.
Of course, I'm starting to devolve into the foul mouthed creature I used to be. Can't have that. I need to practice being better than that.
He deserves better than this. Not Peter, of course. Peter doesn't deserve anything at all, and it'll be the largest mistake of my life, to walk down anything even vaguely resembling an aisle to him.
He should have stayed in the alley behind the bar, where he belonged. Filthy, filled with trash and glass and smoke, where I could hear the other people too drunk to get to their personal hovels before their pants fell.
Not exactly the perfect place to conceive a kid, but hey, that's life.
At least I love Peter. It could have been worse, a stupid mistake after a one night stand. I probably would have killed the baby by now. It wouldn't be hard, no one would know. Just one simple command, and my little defenders would have the parasite removed in only an hour or two.
But... He changed for me. I don't think he'll be able to keep it up, not for long, but he wants us married. He wants us to be bound, maybe to reassure himself that monogamy exists and he can do it. I won't deny him that. He stopped picking out the prettiest, angriest girls at the clubs. He stopped running his fingers up their skirts. He stopped flirting and fucking, just for me.
It's the kind of thing I used to dream of, when I was fourteen and I was innocent and I thought that the only thing that mattered was growing up and getting married to someone who loved me more than life itself- the kind of thing you pick up from ridiculously happily married parents.
That night, I didn't want to fall in love. I just wanted to scream, drink, and maybe kill someone who didn't deserve it, because Kara-ni is too important to be dead.
I'll be damned if he didn't make it happen, though.