A Woman Scorned

Author’s Note: The second of two monologue pieces I penned for my Creative Writing Seminar, revolving around the thoughts of a single character. This piece was written while I was slightly more awake than when I wrote its twin, so hopefully that’s reflected in the writing. The characters in both are meant to be objectionable, so bear that in mind! 

My head rose and fell gently on Laura’s breast as she breathed, playing gently with my hair while she did so. I could feel her pulse was beginning to settle, and idly wondered how long she would be staying this time. Truth be told I had no problem with her in my bed (it certainly beat turning the heating up) but over time she bored me. She had very few interesting things to say, and almost everything else I silently disagreed with. Now that we had run each other ragged she would probably start talking about how she’d missed me, or what my plans for Saturday were, or what she was up to these days. None of which got my pulse racing. Still, she had eyes that a blind man would be stunned by and a body that stop wars. That was reason enough for last night and this morning. It wasn’t the first time and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Vestiges of my conscience still nagged me that I was hardly being fair to her. For crying out loud, she’d jumped at the chance to spend another night with me; another chance to bring me around to her way of thinking. I was stringing her along and I wasn’t entirely proud of it. Still, at this point I was so warped and twisted that there wasn’t much I actually did care about anymore. The world out there did nothing for me and I was happy to sit at home, waving a burning flag, and flipping the bird out the window. Fuck the lot of them.

The bell rang. A few preset chimes that stopped me from dozing off. A quick glance at the clock and I decided it wasn’t the hour for visitors. I settled back onto Laura, feeling the cushion of her chest beneath my head.

“You not going to get that?” She asked, twisting my fringe around her fingers. I turned my head from side to side without opening my eyes.

The bell went again.

“Sounds like someone wants you though.”

I opened one eye and looked up at her big blue eyes framed by copper locks that trailed down her face. “Everyone wants me, they just don’t know it yet.” I closed my eyes again rather than bother to read her reaction to that. “But I think I’d rather just stay here. The climate’s warmer and the company’s extremely pleasing.” To emphasize the point, I blew a raspberry on her nipple that made her squirm.

There was silence for a little while before the bell went again. At that I sighed, before sitting up in bed and reaching for my pyjama bottoms. “Three times’ the charm I guess. Could be the law after all.”

She looked quizzical and ignored the fact that I took the duvet with me, leaving her naked in the sunlight that peeked through the gap in the curtains. “The law?”

I leaned back and kissed her on the crotch, tongue meeting pelvis, not for the first time. “The law, the feds, the fuzz, the boys in blue. I’m wanted dead or alive these days.” I made a mental note to put on Bon Jovi when I got back.

“L.O.L Johnny. L.O.L.” The abbreviation made me physically cringe, even when I looked back to her and she was smiling. I groped around on the floor for my AC/DC T-Shirt.

“Really? L.O.L? Come on Laura. Surely you’ve got a better grasp of the English language than that.” I said it with a smile to mask my utter disdain for the use of text-speak in conversation. But this time when I looked back to her, she wasn’t smiling. This time it wasn’t a ditzy naked girl in front of me, there was a little more behind those big eyes. I got the sense I’d said something wrong but before I could start scrubbing through my recent sentences, she made it abundantly clear.

“Laura? Jesus Christ Johnny…” Hurt and anger and disappointment and pain and other emotions I didn’t recognize from her were all rolled up into one pause. Now she pulled the covers towards herself. “I think you should get the door.”

I paused for a moment. Shit. Her name. Really? It wasn’t Laura? I mean, I hadn’t had much cause to use it last night but seriously it wasn’t Laura?

Buy time. My brain said. Get the door and sort this mess out when you get back. Listen to the brain, that’s the smart thing to do, right? She was grabbing her panties and I was closing the bedroom door behind me.

A few steps down the corridor to the front door and the shock had evidently worn off as she began shouting through the door at me. “I mean,WHAT THE FUCK, JOHNNY? This has got to be the THIRD TIME we’ve gone home together!! And you’ve managed to forget my FUCKING NAME?! Izzy told me you…”

I cringed as she continued, stopping a moment at the door to knock my head against it. The bell went again. In misplaced anger, I threw it open and snapped out an aggressive; “Yes?” Only to find Nick on the step. My anger deflated like a balloon and I leaned heavily on the open door. “What up man.”

Hands in his pockets, Nick looked past me to the distant bedroom. “Trouble in paradise?” I nodded. “So you left her alone in your room?” Another nod. “Good move man.” I shrugged and heard the bedroom door burst open and an enraged Not-Laura emerged dressed and trying to calm her hair with a brush from her bag. She hissed at me as she passed. “Wanker!” And slapped me hard across the cheek as Nick stepped aside to let the tornado past. Nursing the cheek, I gave Nick a wry look. “I think I deserved that.” He nodded and allowed me a few beats of silence before offering a solution. “Pub in twenty?”

 

“Definitely.”