Fiction- Short and sweet.
Look at you.
Flirting.
With a girl no doubt.
My dear Bammie.
But I know what this is. You want to make me jealous. You want to make me crawl and beg for you to look at me, to flirt with me the way you are with her.
I won't. I will not give in to your foolish games.
Oh look, you laugh with her. It almost looks like a real laugh, the kind of laugh you only share with me. But it's not. This is all a game.
The look in your eyes, it's not real. You can only feel that for me. Not some tramp that walked into your life off the street. Just me.
You look over you shoulder and see me staring, boring a hole through you. You roll your eyes and get back to your tramp. But I know. It's all just a plot.
Finally, you begin to walk over to me, with her in tow. I smirk knowingly and watch you and the whore. When you get close enough to hear I tell you that it's not going to work.
You smile and hold the bitch's hand.
"You know Ville. It's not always about you."
You shatter my soul.