Christopher Sturniolo. Lord. You hated him and couldn’t forget at the same time.

Junkie. Addict. So in love with you.

So in love, that he couldn’t let you love him back. He didn’t want you to be with some addict, someone who’ll not able to take care of himself. He didn’t want to ruin your life at all. But he was all in your mind.

His scent, his face, voice, cold hands, red eyes. You loved him. Couldn’t do anything about it.

You two were so rude to each other from time to time. Saying awful things. You were always hating him for what he takes, he was hating that you won’t just ditch him and never care about him. But you both want it. To care.

“Why you do that? Leave me the fuck alone,” his words. Hurting your heart.

“Love you, angel.” Also his. Almost every time it was arguing. But always ended with these heart hurting love words.

You didn’t know why, but always worried where he at. One time you’d call him at the middle of the night, the other time, he would. All wasted and shit. Always.

Tonight’s no different. His call.

“Baby?” His voice weak. Rough. “Can’t get through this without you.”

You find yourself driving to some place in the middle of the night again, just for him. Fucking him.