Calculated Manipulation

The air felt heavy. Or maybe that was just me. My breath was heavy. My chest filled up quickly, letting out the air much quicker than it was letting inside. God. You just sat on the other end of the couch. Your body slumped over the couch with your feet kicked up on the coffee table. Your hands covering your eyes as if you were afraid to look at me. Why couldn't you look at me? Why couldn't you face what you've done? The television screen was lit, yet no picture was shown. Only were there colors bouncing off the cracks of the screen; the cracks which appeared after you tried to put your fist through the picture. God. Was that what you didn't want to face? Your hands uncovered your face. Your head still remained resting on the back of the couch, while your feet were propped up on the coffee table. I've always hated the way you would prop your feet up on the table but there's no way I'm correcting you now.

**

There you stood. On the other side of the room. Your hands still shaking. Your chest moving in than out in rapid motions. You stared at me. At the television. At the room itself. The parts of the room I couldn't bear to look at. My eyes focused onto yours. The loose strays of your hair. The torn shirt which hung over your shoulder. Your torn pants bunched into a ball over in the corner of the room. God. You looked so helpless. Terrified. You kept glancing over at me yet couldn't exactly look at me. I can't blame you. I couldn't look at myself either. Why haven't you left yet? You just stood there. Watching me. Gazing over what I've done. You still remain. You still stood. Watching. Gazing. Observing. Blood staining your skin under your nose. An outline of red staining the line of your upper and lower lip; disappearing a little when you'd lick your lips, which you do often when anxious. Oh babe. My heart ached the more I stared. You seem so helpless. So lost.

**

God. You were coming closer now. My shoulders tensed. My eyes remained locked onto yours, which stayed on me. Your hand came up as you edged closer. Beads of sweat gathered across my forehead as you stood in front of me. Every bone in my body prepared me to flinch as you raised your hand. But, somehow, every bone in my body couldn't bare to move as your fingertips glazed over my cheekbone. Your hands were so soft. I nearly melted at your touch. Your fingers brushed against my skin. Your eyes still locked on mine. You looked as if you were about to speak yet again. Your lips parted. Your gaze locked on mine.

A knock sounded at the door.