“ah.. fuck.” he grunted, laying in his silk sheeted king bed, heaving and breathing heavily as he thought of you.

he missed you. yeah, yeah, he left you, but you never left him. the feeling of you, your body, your voice, your smile, everything about you.

but no, it wasn’t like you were still his, he made it clear he didn’t need you anymore. he broke your pretty little heart, and he knew that. he fucked that up himself, not you.

he tried texting you, tried calling you. he needed you again, even if it was just a simple ‘hi’, or even just a minute call. he craved you more than everything but he couldn’t have you.

It was like a disease for him. you were never off his mind. you haunt him. every single part of you.

“damn it..” he did it again. he let himself get lost in his thoughts and is now a mess in his own sheets.