Tomorrow never comes

A/N; I'm sorry about the block thing. My computer went stupid and deleted all the spaces DX so I had to go back and fix it, hope this is better!

I curled up in a tight ball. It was the only way to get any warmth after he was gone. He left and took all the warmth. That's my excuse. I blame the cold for the tears. I won't let myself blame anything else, it's my fault in the first place. 

I'm too happy, too positive. I know he doesn't like it, when I fake a laugh or a smile. But it's just a habit now. To laugh, to be happy, to feel pleasure. It's all just a mundane habit. It's not like he's home enough to actually care whether I'm happy or not. Alive or not. 

It's been three years of this. He comes 'home' to the house we got years ago and uses me. But he doesn't care about what I feel. 

He usually starts by waiting in the black leather chair by the front door, waiting for me to get home. 

Once I open the door, knowing he'll be on the other side, I smile. A big smile to keep his guilt at bay. Guilt for leaving me alone all the time. 

Of course he wants to pretend happy family, so I let him.

I make supper and he eats, conversing on his job at his fathers company and how one day he'll eventually prove he's better than his brother and take over. He won't. 

I stay quiet, keeping a perfect facade  of a loving, well, lover. Because that's all I am. 

He'll finish his meal after me, I give myself less so I won't throw up later. Then he'll start the foreplay. Usually kissing, I'll kiss back, maybe once and a while fight the losing battle for dominance. I never win, he likes to tease. Or so I've heard. 

I give him what he wants, my cooperation. I let him take off my clothes, his following soon after. Then he move us to the bedroom. Where he grabs the lube and preps me. He'll coat himself then slide in, ignoring my pain filled sounds. No matter how long I've done this, it doesn't get easier. The sooner I give him what he wants, the sooner he leaves. 

I spread my legs; letting him take his pleasure. Slowly pumping in and out of my body, pain lancing through every nerve as he gets faster and rougher, in a last ditch effort to get me engaged. But I don't. He only wants my body. Not me.

Just like every other time, he releases inside my body. Letting his warmth fill me. Funny. That's the only warmth of him I'll get for another night. 

As I predicted, he kisses me on the forehead. Ignoring the dead look my eyes obviously have as they bore holes in the white wall. 

I can hear him picking up his stuff, putting on his clothes. Then, the front door shutting. Just like every other night. Every single night. 

Just like now. 

He just left. 

And I'm sitting here, staring at a wall. Distantly, I hear my phone ring. The high pitched tone indicating it was my best friend, Sakura. I won't answer it. I never do. 

There's no point. There's never any point. Not anymore. 

This is actually the night I told myself I'd end it. But I can't. Of course I can't. I'm weak, so weak. There's nothing left of me anymore. 

I sigh, there's no use sitting and thinking of being dead when you won't do it. I sit up and rub the backs of my legs, that now bare identical hand marks from where he grabbed. They were probably scars by now. 

I stand up and move carefully to the washroom, running the water for a warm bath before stepping in and sinking to my chin. Oh how easy it'd be, moving my head just a little lower and staying there. Sigh, I can't. Not yet. 

I move from the water only when my skin begins to wrinkle, throwing on random clothes as I move back to the bedroom. It's a cold room. It's the only one with an outside wall in this apartment, maybe one of these nights I'll freeze to death. That'll be better than the alternative it seems. 

I throw everything off the bed and onto the floor to deal with in the morning. I had long ago put plastic on the mattress, it makes cleanup a lot easier, and it crinkled as I lay on it, moving closer to the frigid wall. Ignoring the shivers as they racked my body, I threw my heavy t shirt off and onto the floor. My sleeping pants following. 

And as I lay there, the darkness pressing in on me and the cold seeping into my every bone, I feel this is perfect. Maybe him leaving every night isn't so bad. Maybe if I knew he was going to stay, then I would take pleasure out of the acts we did. But I knew he wouldn't. He wouldn't treat me as if I was on the same level. I'm lucky enough to be skewed by him every night before he goes home to his wife. Did I tell you he was married?

She's a nice girl. Short hair, fair skin, big green eyes. Did I also tell you she is my best friend? 

No of course not, how could I. When I haven't even told her. She has no idea her husband-her loving doting husband- has been keeping this secret. I also wouldn't want to hurt their child. Yes, they also have a child. 

How fucked up is this? 

Why can't I just be normal? Why can't he just leave me alone? ALONE! 

I turn to the wall, snuggling closer to the cold embrace. But it's not enough. Even though its the middle of winter, it's not cold enough. 

I stand and move to the giant window beside my bed, facing it calmly. Before punching it. My hand goes through the fragile glass, blood dripping in rivulets down my hand. I continue to break away the glass, leaving only a steel window frame, letting the cold northern wind inside my small room. I sigh in contentment. This is perfect. 

I move back to my bed, laying down closest to the icy wall with the air on my back. It is in this frigid mock Arctic conditions that I'm able to sleep. And sleep I will. Hopefully I won't wake up tomorrow, I'm numb enough already. Tomorrow will just bring pain. I'm perfectly content with this false happiness. 

 

But that's not how my story is destined to end. No matter how much I wish it were so. 

Sakura had come to visit me the next morning. Noting that her husband had forgotten to lock the door behind him when he left. She had found me, near death, in my room. I was happily going to stay there, but she admitted me into the hospital. 

These white walls in which I woke up to see have started to become the norm. It's been two months since my death attempt. 

Now I'm finally being released from the hospital. Tomorrow. 

Then as suddenly as it was yesterday, it was tomorrow. The days melt together now, I cannot tell what is one and what is another. They say the near death has had effects on my brain. They say I won't be able to feel many emotions now, that part of the brain was damaged the most. But that's ok, I never felt them before. You can't miss what you never had. 

I walk into my apartment. Waiting for the dark haired man I knew would be in the chair. Instead I heard sounds coming from the kitchen. 

Is surprise an emotion? Because I felt it when I stepped inside to see him making dinner. I knew he was a great cook, but he would never cook for me. He always said he was too tired. Or he was too busy. It was mostly the busy excuse. That's why I stopped asking for things. 

I sit at the table because its what's expected of me. 

"Welcome home" that voice. I wish he wouldn't talk. It would help me save some of my soul. But tonight, that's when it'll all be over. I'm prepared to die. 

"Thank you Sasuke" I say to the dark haired man. Because its expected.

 

I used to be unpredictable, spontaneous, I would scorn anything expected. But broken promises and false hopes had a way of changing that. 

"Are you hungry dobe?" He doesn't say my name anymore. He avoids it at all costs with little nicknames and insults. I don't rise to the bait though. "Yes. But only a little" I know this answer will appease him and make him only give me a small portion. 

He sets the cooked food in front of me and watches expectantly. I look up and start eating, stating how good it is and giving him the reassurances that I'm okay. 

Of course he doesn't care. Instead, as soon as I'm done, he captures my lips in a kiss. Not a gentle one either. He bites at my lips to open them and I don't resist his aggressive state. He got like this sometimes. I almost always got off with a bruise or two, but when he got like this it was worse. 

He smirked against my lips, "I've waited two months for you because of your stupid act. Now I'm going to punish you for it." I wanted to tell him that all he had to do to punish me was to do what he'd been doing all along. Just leave after the act. 

He picks me up bridal style and moved me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed and removing both our clothes. 

What would he do if I asked him to stop? Would he?

He lined himself up with my entrance and before I could even brace myself, he entered in one swift movement, burying himself to the hilt. 

The burning pain ran up my back, blood leaked from the tears down below. But he didn't care. He continued to plow into my body, saying how tight it was and how he loved it. As my eyes filled with tears that spilled over onto the pillows, he released inside me. My scream must have sobered him, because his cum burned as it filled the rips in the soft muscle. His eyes burned with clarity and he looked down at my body that was broken and bruised by his hands. 

"Na..Naruto. I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." He said, pleadingly. Pulling out gently, he stood and assessed the damage. 

For the first time in two years, I spoke to him after he'd taken his pleasure;

 "g...get... Get ou...out" 

he looked up stunned as my body instinctively curled in on itself and he stood over me, trying to protect me. From himself. Ironic.

He waged a little war inside his mind, I could practically hear the gears moving as he systematically grabbed his clothes, dressed and left the apartment with no other words. 

I stood from my bed, moving over to the bag I'd brought from the hospital. I opened the bag and pulled out a small wrapped item, careful not to crush the glass, I removed the wrapping to reveal a small bottle filled with my medication. Medication that should only be taken one at a time. I didn't even know what it was for, or what it did, only that I had to take it every 12 hours. 

Placing the bottle beside my bed, I went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. With the glass in one hand, I trudged back to my room, gasping at the feeling of his essence leaking down my leg along with blood. I sat on my bed, placing the glass on the counter. This was the final moment. I grabbed the bottle and tilted it so one of the pristine white pills laid on my hand. Of course something so deadly had to look so innocent. 

I raised my small sliver of happiness to my mouth, letting it rest on my dry lips before letting it fall with a satisfying click behind my teeth, swallowing it with help of the water. One down. 

Another shake of the bottle brought another white pill to rest on my hand. And another clink and swallow led it down my throat. Two down. 

I keep going until half the bottle is gone. By now my head is fuzzy and sleep looks so nice. What's one little nap?

I lay back on my bed, saying one last goodnight to the world as my eyes slid shut. 

At least I'll have pleasant dreams before I die. 

What was that saying? Oh right, that's it. "Tomorrow never comes."  

At least, not for me.