And so, in the end, the choice is made inevitable.
Was I going to follow my heart or my head?
Was I even going to be able to distinguish between the two?
The dove and the wolf ended up reuniting, on terms that, whilst neither of them seemed to like much, had no choice but to accept.
Because that was the thing about addictions – you find any way to be closer to them, to have them by your side, even if it’s just for a few moments.
Those moments, I know now, will last me a lifetime.
Theo and I went back to sneaking around in the months that followed. The first time we had seen each other after I had left his apartment, we didn’t speak.
I was eyeing him and he was eyeing me, but halftime never came.
Or at least the one that we were both used to.
The second time I had seen him, he had come to pick Yasmine up from practice. It was as if my veins began to rub together like sandpaper, and I couldn’t look away.
His arm securely wrapped around her waist, her obnoxious laughter filling the afternoon air, as he guided her off the pitch five minutes too early, and made sure I knew.
Or perhaps it was all in my head, and he wasn’t trying to get back at me at all.
There was no competition here, because he was better than me in so many ways.
He had opportunities, and all I could do was walk home to Sam, and life went back to how it was before I had met him.
For a while.
Until I decided, I couldn’t live that life anymore.
At the sixth game, the whistle blew, indicating the dreadful break that was once liberating, filled with nothing but our pleasure as one.
I knew what I had to do to get his attention, and I knew it would work, because complicated, messy us couldn’t deny the pull any longer, and I could sense his own frustration from across the field.
I ran to the back of the stands, and seconds later I felt his hand on my hip, pleading me to turn around and face him.
“I knew you would follow,” I smirk in victory, and before he could ruin this moment and say something stupid, something that was bound to come off as cocky and mocking, I crashed my lips to his, and shivered at the feverish feeling of having him this close, and yet so far away.
He pulls back for air, and his green eyes are turned black, pupils full blown, and I can’t help but tangle my fingers in his hair, savouring the way in which a fistful of his curls alone made me want to do the most wicked things.
“What do you want, Dove?” He breathes against my lips, and when a low groan escapes him, I know exactly how to use this moment of vulnerability to my advantage, to break him.
To use him, just as he had said.
“You,” I simply respond, in the most seductive way possible, my voice thick with need. But when he goes to pull his shorts down, I stop him, and allow my own hands to do the work.
I grip him underneath his boxers, his length evidently growing in my hand.
“But first,” I moan in between kisses, “I need you to do something for me.” I smile against his lips, knowing how bad I was torturing him by just pumping him in my hand, but I loved having all the control.
“And what’s that?” he asks, growing more and more frustrated.
“Cut Yasmine off, or I won’t let you come,” I move my lips to his ear and whisper, then pull back just in time to see the priceless reaction on his face.
“W-what?”
“You heard me. I want you to stop seeing her.”
“But Dove, that’s not -”
“Shh,” I press my pointer to his lips, and use that free hand to fist his shirt and pull him closer to me, pressing him to my inner thighs.
“Say you’ll stop seeing her,” I encourage the words out of his mouth, slowing down my movements on his erection, before completely pulling away, earning more groans of complaints.
“I’ll stop seeing her,” he blurts out, his face reddening at his sudden confession, “please, just let me fuck you.”
I let out a victorious chuckle, before tugging my panties down in an instant and guiding him inside of me, with a gasp of his name.
The feeling of skin on skin was exquisite, and I knew we couldn’t get too carried away, and that he had to relieve himself elsewhere, which ended up being down my throat.
But in that moment, I couldn’t care for rules and morals. He took me forcefully against the wall, our breaths synchronised and our movements sloppy, and once again, it was just us and us only.
I knew that despite his agreement, he wouldn’t stop seeing her, or would perhaps proceed to see her not so publicly, not so in my face, as he had done for the past three weeks.
Three weeks we went without touching each other.
And I couldn’t add one more to that.
But I needed to hear him say the words, even if he was lying, and my growing desperation for him frightened and thrilled me all the same.
And after that night, we had reverted back to old ways.
I had chosen to betray Sam again, after managing to suppress my needs for so, so long.
But it was impossible, when all I could think about was his touch, and the way in which he was able to bring out the fire.
He had become my biggest weakness, and nothing else mattered.
Not school.
Not my parents.
Not even my own relationship, which I continued to destroy time and time again, until there was nothing else left of it for me to ruin.