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I watched her soft thighs peel apart, inviting me in to experience her.

It made my heartbeat quicken, trying my hardest to remain calm.

I've never been this excited to pleasure someone before.

I swallowed like someone deprived of water when she guided the silky material away from her legs, revealing herself to me entirely.

She was smooth, her folds parted enough to reveal the flushed pink hidden between them.

Fuck.

Even looking at her is sending my entire existence into overdrive.

"Hands behind your back," Monroe instructed, making me furrow my brows slightly.

I wanted to grab her—I wanted to feel her soft thighs under my hands.

But I also don't want to refuse her demands, and then she withdraws entirely.

I need to show her I'm ready.

"Good girl," she said when I held my hands behind my back.

But that wasn't enough for her.

No.

Monroe reached over to her nightstand right beside me, opening the top drawer—

And grabbed a pair of handcuffs.

She leaned over me, her scent breezing around me and causing me to deeply inhale.

I basked in the way she smelled, unconsciously leaning deeper between her legs.

I didn't care about the cold metal that she wrapped around my wrists, securing each one in place.

All that mattered to me was tasting her, feeling her against my tongue.

"My beautiful toy for the night," Monroe softly whispered as she let go of my wrists and leaned away.

Her eyes met mine again, and suddenly I could feel everything.

The tension.

My anticipation.

The need to be used by her.

I'm so fucking desperate that it would be embarrassing, but not as I sit here in front of Monroe.

I feel special instead.

"Be good for me, Liberty," Monroe said as she angled herself slightly off the edge of the bed.

I nodded almost three times in a row, "I will, mommy," I whispered.

Shivers ran through me when she lifted her leg over my shoulder, pulling me into her entirely.

I inaudibly gasped when she grabbed my hair, tugging my face toward her core.

A hum vibrated in my throat the moment my lips touched her soft folds, slipping my tongue out to lick up her core and savor every drop of her.

I heard her draw in a deep breath, her grip in my hair tightening as she guided my mouth up toward her clit.

"Suck, Liberty."

I immediately parted my lips for her, wrapping them around her clit and sucking down.

Goosebumps tickled my spine when a soft noise fell from her lips.

A moan.

I sucked harder in response, flicking my tongue flat against her to hopefully elicit another moan from her.

A whimper burned in my throat when she gripped my hair tighter.

"Faster, darling."

I flicked my tongue even quicker, dragging another drawn-out moan from her lips.

She sounded incredible.

She tasted incredible too—almost like nothing at all.

All I could do was suck more, trying to savor more of her wetness.

I began to salivate.

"Yes, just like that, Liberty."

I focused on keeping up with the quick pace she wanted, feeling her grind against my mouth to truly use me as she desired.

I drew in deep breaths, feeling my jaw ache from the quick pace, but I refused to stop.

Monroe moaned deeper when I flicked her clit faster, sucking down as hard as I could for her.

It made me squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to focus on my lockjaw or the cold handcuffs restricting my hands.

I could only rely on my mouth.

Monroe's grip tightened in my hair, pulling me in even deeper as I whimpered.

Her rapid breaths echoed into the air, beautiful moans spilling from her lips as I continued my quick pace.

Then I felt it.

Her body tensed against my mouth, the grip she had in my hair tightening.

"Liberty," she moaned out for me, somehow altering my fucking brain chemistry.

I had never felt more satisfied from eating someone out before.

It felt like I just had my second fucking orgasm from pleasuring her alone.

A choked whimper burned in my throat when she tugged me down by my hair, angling me away from her clit, and at her entrance instead.

"Look at me, Liberty," Monroe said, immediately making my eyes flutter open as I pressed my tongue against her entrance, "Lick it up like the good girl you are."

I didn't hesitate to drag my tongue up her soaked folds, slicked with the mess I got to make of her.

She tasted fucking incredible, at some point I began slurping any wetness I could get, holding her stare the entire time as she instructed.

Monroe hummed tightly as she stared down at me, "Very good, Liberty," she murmured, moaning when I licked around her entrance.

Then I curled my tongue inside of her to lick up every last drop, wanting to make her proud.

"Very good girl."

I hummed at her validation, slipping my tongue out of her and pressing it flat against her core to lick up more.

She guided me away by my hair once I had finished, allowing the cold air to hit my face.

I could feel the mess she made of me—my nose, mouth, and chin, slicked with her wetness.

"Did I do good, mommy?" I asked as she slid her leg down from my shoulder.

"You did incredible, my sweet girl," Monroe didn't hesitate to say, leaning down to undo my handcuffs.

It barely took her a few seconds before one wrist clicked open, and then another.

I relaxed as soon as I was released from the restraints, staring up at her with a small smile.

I feel like I'm on cloud fucking nine right now.

"Let's clean you up, darling," Monroe said as she closed the nightstand drawer where she had put the handcuffs back.

Then she leaned down to me, gently grabbing my neck and pressing her lips to mine.

I leaned into the kiss with a hum, feeling her tongue slip eagerly past my lips.

The taste of her was prominent on my tongue still, kissing her back to exchange the beautiful taste I got to experience.

Monroe gripped my neck tightly when I deepened the kiss, leaning deeper into me.

Our saliva and the essence of her mixed between us as each kiss grew deeper and deeper.

Until Monroe subtly pulled back, letting out a deep breath as she eyed my swollen lips.

"My perfect girl," she murmured, staring so openly at my lips as she smoothed her thumb against the front of my neck.

It made me shiver, sitting on my knees before her as she loomed over me.

After a short moment, she blinked, glancing away from my lips to meet my stare.

"Come on, darling," Monroe whispered, letting go of my neck as she stood from the bed.

Then she extended a hand to me, which I didn't hesitate to take—standing one foot at a time from the cold floor.

Monroe guided me into her bathroom, where she washed my face with the face wash she kept here for me.

She did my nightly skincare too, but I refused to let her brush my teeth.

I know she has a very particular routine of things after our sexual encounters—like washing her hands or cleaning up.

The only time she hasn't is if it's during the middle of the night, but something tells me the idea of cleanliness nags at her until morning.

I prefer to keep the taste of her prominent in my mouth at any hour of the day or night.

Monroe ventured off to the closet, changing into a pair of silky black pajama pants with a matching ribbed tank top.

Meanwhile, she gave me the usual white t-shirt to pull on.

Then it was time to head downstairs for dinner.

Monroe got started on the chicken she planned to bake while I got comfortable at the kitchen island, watching her.

For once, I felt patient enough to wait for dinner, but only to keep the taste of her prominent on my lips for as long as possible.

I happily sat there, no phone or anything, as she made mashed potatoes and broccoli to go with the grilled chicken.

Eventually, it was time to eat, and by that point, I was decently hungry.

Starving actually.

I made sure to get two scoops of the mashed potatoes because those were always my favorite.

Monroe makes them homemade, and I don't know what seasoning she adds, but it's so fucking good.

I always finish the leftovers in less than two days.

I would eat them for breakfast if Monroe let me, but she always insists on something more proper.

Cereal was already hard enough to convince her on.

But in general, Monroe is pleased when I eat decently.

Like tonight, when I got another small scoop of mashed potatoes.

My stomach hated me for it.

I was uncomfortably full to where I couldn't have any of the pears and brie, but Monroe still tried them.

She said it was really good, which made me happier than it should've.

I was smiling as we walked back upstairs, almost waddling from how full I was.

All I wanted to do was collapse in bed, but Monroe insisted I brush my teeth first.

She knew I wouldn't want to get back up once I laid down, so I ended up brushing my teeth, rushing through the process so I could get in bed.

Monroe joined me, for once, not bringing her work to bed, and instead, laying with me.

The front of our bodies rested against one another, our legs tangled, and my face pressed against her chest.

Monroe caressed her hand up my back, soothing me more and more.

It had barely hit eight o'clock, and somehow I'm beyond ready to knock out.

"Thank you," I suddenly whispered, "For... using my face," I hesitantly said, feeling my cheeks burn up.

"Thank you for letting me, darling," Monroe said, her soft voice more audible than mine, "You needed it."

"I did?" I asked with furrowed brows.

Then I remembered how everything went in her office earlier.

She knew I needed something more.

"You were self-doubting, and I wanted to benefit you in any way possible, sweetheart," she murmured, making me pull back from her chest to meet her blue eyes.

"So... no one has um," I awkwardly paused, staring into her eyes, "You haven't used anyone else's face?"

Monroe remained silent for a moment, and I knew she had escaped to her thoughts.

That wasn't a good sign.

"Oh okay," I whispered, furrowing my brows as I glanced away from her precise stare.

"I understand the past makes us who we are, as you said, Liberty," Monroe quoted my words from so long ago, "But it doesn't mean that this isn't my main priority presently. My aim was to help you with self-doubt, perhaps feel closer to me."

I rolled my eyes, "You're talking to me like a therapist, Monroe," I pointed out blankly.

"Well, that is my profession, darling. It's naturally my tone of voice," Monroe softly whispered, gently cupping my face in her hand, "I'll try to correct myself better, so you don't feel like that."

I shook my head, "No, I don't want you controlling more things and-and I..." I trailed off, blinking a few times, "I don't want you to feel obligated to let me go down on you, Monroe."

She remained neutrally silent, her eyes burning into mine as she processed my words and the rushed tone I held.

"You have a very beautiful face, Liberty. I have daydreamed vividly about using you as I did," Monroe suddenly spoke, her tone lowered between us as she stared so deeply into my eyes, "You're never an obligation to me. That assumption alone is offensive to not just you as a person, but me as well."

I remained wordlessly silent, unsure how to respond to her complex words.

They made my defenses lower and my face grow unbearably warm.

"Before your mind truly started overthinking this, darling, you felt good. What we did made us both feel good, and that's what matters," Monroe softened her tone, leaning her face closer to mine, "I wanted you, not out of obligation, Liberty. I truly wanted you."

I nodded wordlessly, "I wanted you too," I whispered, leaning in to hug her, "So much, Monroe."

She instinctively wrapped her arms around me, hugging me closer to her body, "My sweet girl," she softly whispered, nuzzling her face into my neck, "You are always enough, nothing in my past changes that."

I let out a soft sigh, "I know—you're right, I was overthinking it all. You just want me to be happy," I admitted, realizing I needed to let this past thing go.

It just eats away at me because she once had her.

I want to be the only one who ever gets to experience Monroe.

I furrowed my brows at my unconscious thoughts, feeling my stomach twist at them.

I won't be the last one who experiences Monroe.

There will be someone after me.

Fuck, how am I scared of the past and future at the same time?

This is exhausting.

"Can we go to sleep now?" I suddenly asked, even though I felt far from tired.

"Of course, darling," Monroe didn't hesitate to say, pulling away to turn off the lamp.

I purposely turned around in her arms, deciding not to pull away, or she would know something was wrong.

I just needed a moment to myself because suddenly there's this pit in my stomach.

I still want more.

I thought I could be okay with this dynamic, but the more time that passes, I'm slowly realizing I'm not.

The longer I stay, the harder it'll be.

More or so, for me, since Monroe is detached.

It's this dynamic or nothing.

It might have to be nothing.

Unless Monroe steps up and tries to make something of this.

That's the only way I'll continue with her.

I blankly stared forward at the dark wall as Monroe nuzzled her face into my neck, running her arms around my waist and pulling me closer.

The front of her body was warm against the back of mine, her fingertips lightly caressing my stomach.

Normally, I would fall into a deep sleep immediately.

But all I could do was silently stare forward.

I'm not sure how long I laid like that.

It was minutes on end, making me feel suffocated and doomed at the same time.

Eventually, I forced myself to close my eyes, hoping that would make me fall asleep.

It didn't.

It was the same thing as before, just with my eyes closed.

My mind ran rampant, already trying to plan out how I would tell her I wanted more, or I'm ending this.

I really need to put my foot down this time.

I can't let her pull me back in like she always does.

This is my ultimatum.

I sifted through different scenarios in my head for hours on end, unable to fall asleep as I tried to figure out the best way to do this.

She comforts me so well—she knows exactly what to say to make me feel better.

I always forget why I was upset before.

I squeezed my eyes tighter shut, hoping that would help me feel tired, but it didn't.

I laid there for hours on end, waiting for the moment morning would finally come.

My mind passed most of the time, my thoughts creating deeper threads of more thoughts..

I was honestly surprised when I heard the soft chiming of Monroe's alarm.

She had one of those Hatch alarm clocks that mimics the sunrise.

Then again, she wakes up before the sun itself is up.

I had to pretend to stir from my sleep, forcing a big yawn as I blinked my heavy eyes open.

They burned from my lack of sleep, glancing over to Monroe as she turned the alarm off on the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, darling," Monroe instinctively said the moment she glanced over, noticing I was awake, "I hate waking you."

I quickly shook my head, "No, it's okay, I'm ready to get up—I think going to sleep early did it," I lied, leaving out the real reason why I was so awake right now.

"Do you want breakfast?" she asked as I slid out of bed away from her.

"I think I might have cereal—or something at my place," I determined, walking over to her bathroom.

I grabbed my clothes folded on the sink, pulling my leggings back on with the fresh pair of underwear Monroe laid out for me last night.

"Have breakfast with me, darling," Monroe said, walking into the bathroom as I tugged the white shirt over my head.

I hooked my bra back on, "I have some schoolwork to catch up on," I said as she actively prepared our toothbrushes with toothpaste.

Then her stare shifted to me, her blue eyes meeting mine as I zipped my tight black jacket on.

I didn't acknowledge her stare, grabbing my toothbrush to start brushing my teeth.

Monroe remained still for a moment, openly watching me as I stared forward, pretending to be unaffected by her stare.

I had so many plans in my head, but the one I decided on was to quickly tell her I wanted more or nothing, and leave.

I didn't want her trying to discuss it, or I would cave.

I unconsciously relaxed the moment Monroe glanced away from me, grabbing her toothbrush to brush her teeth as well.

An awkward silence burned around us as I tried to focus on brushing my teeth, staring at myself in the mirror.

Once I was done, I fixed my messy hair, redoing the bun before Monroe had a chance to do my hair for me.

She watched me with precision, leaning against the sink with her eyes on me.

She had finished brushing her teeth, yet she still stood here with me.

"So I've... decided something," I suddenly spoke, glancing away from the mirror to her.

"Go on," Monroe calmly said as if she expected this, her blue eyes trailing my face.

I blinked a few times, "I uh," I hesitated, trying my best to force the words out, "I can't do this dynamic. I want more—I want something serious."

Monroe remained silent for a moment, making my heart beat rapidly in my chest.

Her eyes trailed my face, openly contemplating her next move.

I stepped back the moment she leaned away from the sink.

"Stay over there," I quickly said, knowing if she touched me, that would be it.

I would cave.

"Liberty," Monroe softly sighed, pausing her actions, "We discussed this, darling. I can't give you more."

I shrugged, "Then I can't give you this dynamic," I determined.

She remained silent again, her stare burning into mine.

It was tense around us, the air filled with uncertainty.

I didn't know which way this would go.

"What's more to you, Liberty?" she suddenly asked me, taking a step toward me.

I took a step back.

"A relationship—I think that's what I want," I whispered with furrowed brows.

I've always been unserious when it came to things like this, but truthfully, I want more.

Or maybe I just want more with her.

"I can only give you this dynamic," Monroe said, making something sink inside of me, "But perhaps we can do dates. A compromise?"

I furrowed my brows, "Dates?" I murmured to myself, finding the idea to be decent.

"Anywhere you want, dinner or perhaps a movie," she offered some ideas, making me feel a little hopeful.

Until I realized there was one thing we wouldn't be able to do.

"But no double dates?" I suddenly asked her, crossing my arms over my chest.

Monroe briefly glanced down at my arms, openly acknowledging my change of stance.

"That would be impossible, Liberty," Monroe said, meeting my stare again, "I'm still your therapist."

I shook my head, "Not if you refer me as a patient," I pointed out, hoping she would give me more than this.

"You will always be my patient, Liberty. Even months from now, that's what people will focus on. That we always had that dynamic," she explained, making me draw in a deep breath.

"Then I don't want to compromise. I want more, Monroe," I said, standing my ground just as I told myself I would.

Even if her compromise sounded good, it sounded like something more than what we had.

"Why don't we try the dates idea first, darling?" Monroe asked, taking another step toward me, "We don't have to take these drastic measures."

I shook my head, "Yes, we do. Otherwise, I'll get sucked in again, and you know this," I pointed out, knowing how this works all too well.

She gives me a little, but never enough.

"It's more or nothing, Monroe. I'm done with this dynamic," I said firmly, taking another step away from her.

The amount of space between us was too small for my liking.

"No."

I furrowed my brows at the word that casually fell from her lips.

"No?" I repeated back to her in emphasis, "You don't have any room to say no, Monroe."

Monroe remained neutral, her blue eyes holding mine, "We're not ending this," she had the nerve to say.

I scoffed, "Watch me then," I mumbled, walking out of the bathroom before she could say anything else.

Monroe followed behind me anyway, making me shake my head.

"I'm serious," I said as I tried to walk as quickly as I could away from her.

But her strides were longer.

I tugged away the moment her hands grabbed my waist, but she pulled me back firmer.

The back of my body was met with her warm front before I could process it, making me squirm and tug against her.

When her hold on me grew tighter, I knew I should just be still.

"You said I could end this at any time," I reminded her, crossing my arms defensively over my chest as I stared at the wall in front of me.

"I did," Monroe softly whispered, leaning down to my neck.

I shivered when she pressed a soft kiss to my skin, trailing her fingers under the waistband of my leggings.

"But I never said I would agree. It takes two people to end something, darling," she murmured against my skin.

I shook my head wordlessly, processing her words.

She always says things a certain way, and now I see why.

For moments like this.

She said I could end this whenever I wanted, but failed to include whether she would agree.

"To be clear, darling," Monroe softly whispered, sliding her fingers further past my waistband and making me draw in a deep breath, "I'm not letting you go."

"You..." I trailed off when her fingers slid further and further down, "You can't make me stay."

She softly hummed against my neck, "And you can't make me let you go," she said back, her voice softened between us.

I knew she meant it.

Anyone else I could walk away from, but I knew when it came to her—

She would pull me back every time.

"Just give me more, Monroe," I tried to reason with her, inaudibly gasping when she traced my clit through my underwear.

"Darling," Monroe softly whispered, kissing down my neck as I arched away from her, "Take the compromise for mommy."

I wordlessly shook my head, "More or nothing," I breathed out, causing her to rub me quicker through my underwear.

I squeezed my eyes closed with a whine, jerking against her.

"Nothing is no longer an option, Liberty," she said lowly against my neck.

I panted for air, arching away from her teasing touch.

I knew she wouldn't actually touch me unless I compromised, which meant this would lead to edging.

Because I'm not compromising.

I reached for her wrist, trying to tug her hand away so I wouldn't get edged.

Monroe slipped her fingers past my underwear anyway, burying them deeply inside me.

I moaned breathlessly, "Monroe," I forced out, feeling my legs tremble as I unconsciously scratched at her arm.

But in reality, I knew what this was.

I knew this was CNC, and all I had to say was yellow, but I didn't want to.

"Compromise, darling," she said against my neck, thrusting in and out of me as I gripped her arm tighter for stability.

"N-no," I whispered breathlessly, moaning when she curled directly into my spot.

I don't even know how we got here.

How she's touching me when I told myself I would be strong.

"What we have is so good, Liberty," Monroe whispered, trailing soft kisses down my neck as my head fell back against her shoulder, "You don't want to end this."

"I... don't," I admitted, arching into her fingers, "But you won't g-give me more," I tried my best to say, feeling her thrusts quicken.

It made me grow more breathless, panting between my moans.

"I can't emotionally give you more, but I'm trying to meet you halfway, Liberty," I heard her voice echo around me, approaching my intense climax, "Compromise with me, darling."

I shook my head rapidly, but it was too late.

I already hit my peak, coming undone onto her fingers.

"N...no-no," I forced out in a deep whimper, curving away from her as she tried to help me ride out my orgasm.

"We can figure it out along the way, sweetheart. Just compromise," she softly said, her soft lips grazing my ear as I trembled from her touch and my overwhelming orgasm.

It made me squeeze my eyes tighter, furrowing my brows as I tried to focus on reality.

And not the warm feeling fighting its way through my body.

"I want more," I forced out, leaning away from her as soon as my orgasm faded away.

Monroe slid her fingers out of me, sliding her hand out of my pants.

I quickly tugged away from her, walking out of her bedroom completely as she silently followed behind me.

"You should be the one compromising—you should give me more," I emphasized, walking even quicker toward the stairs, "I'm done with this dynamic, Monroe."

"You can't be done. I'm not done, Liberty," I heard her say, her voice firm with me as I quickly trailed down the stairs.

I didn't say anything else to her—instead, I grabbed my shoes and keys, quickly walking down the hallway toward the garage door.

I had to learn the hard way that her front door doesn't unlock unless she wants it to—I won't be learning that lesson again.

"Liberty," she spoke again, her voice lowered dangerously, "I'm not leaving you alone."

"Have fun with that," I mumbled, practically fast-walking past the hallway and kitchen, "I'm leaving you alone."

I quickly opened the door to the garage before she could say anything else, pressing the button to lift the wide garage door open.

I slipped out past her Bentley, jogging toward my car breathlessly.

But Monroe wasn't following me this time.

No.

She just stood at the door frame, head tilted, like she was studying me.

I quickly unlocked my car and opened the door, sliding into the driver's seat before throwing my shoes in the seat beside me.

Monroe looked eerily calm through my rear-view mirror, her blue eyes watching as I turned my car on.

I wasn't sure why she was suddenly so neutral.

Maybe she didn't plan on opening the gates for me?

She knew I couldn't leave.

I was proven wrong when the gates automatically opened for my car, making me brake slightly.

I glanced back in my rear-view mirror again, watching her stand in the door frame, awaiting my next move.

If I would drive past this gate or not.

She assumed I wouldn't—that I'm going to take it all back, but not this time.

I'm standing my ground on this one.

I pressed my foot on the gas, driving past the gates with ease and turning out of her driveway.

It was dark outside, the time displaying 5:48 am.

I felt proud of myself for standing my ground, but I also felt this weird hollowness that followed whenever I was separated from Monroe.

It made me want to cry.

Or maybe I'm running on no sleep, and I'm tired.

I drew in a deep breath, trying my best to fight away the urge to cry.

Maybe I should've compromised.

No.

That's what she wants.

She wants me to doubt myself.

She-she's manipulating me.

I sniffled, reaching up to quickly wipe under my eyes before the tears had a chance to fall.

I hate her so much for this.

I miss her too.

I already miss her?

But-but she just wants to use me until she's ready to let go.

Or am I overthinking?

Oh my god, what if I'm overthinking all of this?

Everything was fine before last night—I was completely okay with our dynamic.

The double date thing got in my head.

I'm not even a serious person like this.

I quickly shook my head, "No, but I want to be," I whispered manically to myself, "She makes me want more."

I quickly wiped more of my tears away, shaking my head as I tried my best not to let my thoughts confuse me.

It feels like she's in my head.

I don't even know what's me anymore.

Which are my thoughts, and what are the ones she planted herself?

My tears came down faster, determining that I was genuinely losing my mind.

I tried to focus on the road, not letting myself fade into derealization because then I would have to call her to help fix me again.

And she wants that.

"I can't do this," I whispered to myself, drawing in a series of deep breaths as I drove past the green light.

Get it together, Libby.

Everything is okay.

I need—

Monroe.

I need her so badly.

I quickly shook my head, no, I need to pack a bag.

I-I can't be at my apartment, she'll show up there by the end of the day.

I nodded rapidly to myself, deciding I would pack a bag as quickly as I could and head to Zion and Sarai's.

I also decided to grab my phone, un-sharing my location with her, even if I knew she already had eyes on me.

Then I let out a deep breath, deciding that I really needed to get a grip.

I focused on each objective at hand, refusing to slip into my infiltrated thoughts.

Whether I focused on getting to my apartment or packing my bag—I went through the motions entirely.

Everything blurred around me, and before I knew it, I was at Zion and Sarai's apartment, knocking rapidly on the door.

It was really early, so the silence stretched for a few moments.

Then I tried again, knocking heavier—

Until the door suddenly swung open.

Zion was only in basketball shorts, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Behind him, Sarai appeared in the doorway, her brows furrowed with concern.

"Libs?" Zion said, blinking a few times as if he thought I was genuinely a hallucination.

I parted my lips to say something, but nothing came out.

I broke down instead, tears burning in my eyes as I dropped my bag to hug him.

"Oh, Libby," Sarai softly whispered as Zion instinctively hugged me back.

"Can you grab her bag, babe?" he asked Sarai, guiding me further into the apartment as I tightened my arms around him.

"Of course—I got it," I heard Sarai quickly say as Zion patted my back soothingly.

But my crying only grew worse, still coming to terms with what just happened.

I basically just ended everything.

Monroe and I are over and... now what?

What do I fucking do now?

I don't want to do anything else.

I just want her.

I wanted her to give me more—to show up differently.

Yet somehow, I'm left disappointed just like I always am.