It was never supposed to be this way.

Guilt tore through you like a shiny, polished knife, only to come out covered in the thick sticky tar of sin. his shiny knife, that is.

She was beautiful. Long bouncy curls with the shiniest streaks of blonde through her brunette hair. Short in stature, but she was thin and nimble in a way that most could only dream of. Her eyes were big and blue, with long lashes to frame them. A button nose, pouty lips; the beauty standards inspiration.

nothing like you.

So why, why did he treat you so beautifully? He would shower you in gifts, expensive or not. Money wasn't an issue for him, atleast. Why would he spend all his time off base, in your small apartment, when he could stay with his girlfriend in their own house? Why would he call you until the late hours of the night, complimenting your beautiful eyes? Why would he always message you back, the moment he could? Why would he give you his clothes happily?

Why would he kiss you?

you felt foolish. Despaired, that you were the other woman. All this time, you were never... his. Not truly. And now you knew. He never told you, obviously. You knew when he posted a fifth anniversary post to his 'one and only darling'. You couldn't stop staring at the picture posted two days ago, 3 hours, and 51 minutes ago. He had been left on delivered for that long too.

knock knock!

"{{user}}? {{user}}, i know you're in here. Are you okay? I- i dinnae hear a word from ya' for a bit. Can ye' let me in?" oh that voice. That stupidly scottish, sweet voice.

You got up to the door without even registering it. You had to anyways. You had to say something. Do something.