What am I doing?
Alex tossed and turned in bed as she fought the flutters of unwanted
excitement she felt in the pit of her stomach. This guy was NO good, and yet
she couldn't help but fantasise scenarios where she took him up on his offer.
Alex checked her phone again. No more messages received; not that it mattered.
Her mind was running wild without the need for more interaction from him.
Was this guilt?
It couldn't be. The thoughts she was having about him clearly proved
that she wasn't as concerned about his situation as she probably should be,
which was even more worrying. Did this make her an awful person? How could she
even be considering this?
She mentally shook herself and stared out into the darkness of her
room. Alex needed to have a word with herself, a bloody stern word.
Nothing had even happened… but she knew deep down, if she could have her way
something definitely would.
Alex flung the covers from her body and kicked them off her feet. She
was burning up. All these naughty thoughts about a man who was completely
unavailable to her, was having the most ridiculous physical effect.
Alex snatched her phone from the bed side table and opened her messages.
She typed a quite note to her friend, Nina, who knew them both, and then turned
her phone off. She wouldn’t be able to settle if there was a chance he could
message again.
Wide awake and mildly disturbed by her desire, Alex got out of bed and
walked through the dark flat towards the kitchen. The rest of the house were
fast asleep and as much as she wanted a cup of tea, it was unfair to boil the
kettle so far into the night; she’d have to settle for water.
Winter was descending on them and the streets of North London were
glistening under the early morning frost. Everything was very still, which made
the scene even more beautiful. Alex stood at the window looking out on the
world from her 4th floor flat. Moments like this reminded her
to be grateful for everything that she had in life. Though, this particular
feeling of appreciation was tainted by her attraction to a married man.
Darren just had something about him. He was what I suppose you would
call a “lad’s lad”. When Alex met him, she was instantly attracted to him. He
was tall, held his own and was extremely well-dressed. He seemed to stick out
for all the right reasons and yet wasn't quite centre of
attention.
They had spotted each other across the bar and shared a flirtatious
smile, which made Alex’s groin shamelessly tingle. They didn't speak
until the very end of the evening but when they did, he won her over with
his cheeky persona and intense gaze.
Alex had never wanted to kiss a stranger so much. She wanted him bad and
despite after months of flirting, when she found out that he was in fact
married and expecting his first child, that desire had never subsided.
Alex pushed herself off of the wall she’d been leaning on to gaze out of
the window, crossed the front room to the sofa and settled on a corner, pulling
the communal throw over her shoulders. She remained sitting in the dark room,
resting her head against the cushion, listening to the sounds of North London
at night.
It was really grating on her that she had again unconsciously fallen for
someone she couldn't be with. Over the years, Alex had noticed
that this was a defence mechanism. She did it to protect herself from getting
hurt but it didn't always work.
The sound of a night bus rolling past was closely followed by a few
drunken giggles and shouts and then silence again. Alex closed her eyes,
allowing the feeling of ‘home’ wash over her. Darren was bad news but he was a
welcome distraction from the, occasionally overwhelming, loneliness she
sometimes felt.
And just like that, she drifted off into a comfortable sleep.
