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By the end of the day, she was out of steam. After eight hours of performing a one-woman play about a mentally-engaged, emotionally functional human, she had nothing left in her.
But she was depressed, not deranged, so she swallowed her aggravation and waited for the cashier to bag her books.
But really, how dare he? How dare he be so fucking hot and also be such a massive jerk?
Men who wanted her made her feel trapped, panicky. It was much better, much safer, to want somebody who didn’t want her back. Because then she’d never have to worry about getting trapped in another suffocating, inescapable relationship.
Boundary-respecting asshole!
she closed her eyes and screamed as hard and long as she could. It helped a little.
The last time she woke up like this, he tried to bite her. Would he do it again? Why did she want him to?
