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I actually didn’t know that.
”Of course." I set down my whiskey and reach for a bottle of white wine from my collection. Pouring it into a glass, I hand it to her, my mind swirling with thoughts that I can’t stop.
Aliyah is too high-maintenance. She expects and demands, but there's no fun, no spontaneity. She doesn't have a range, she doesn't adapt.
It's not a crime, but it's not what I need. I need someone who can roll with the punches, who can surprise me, challenge me.
I clink my glass against hers, smiling politely. "To a beautiful evening," I say, even though that seems far from reach tonight.
We settle into the plush black leather couches, the city lights painting a backdrop through the glass walls. The conversation that follows is as bland as expected. Aliyah flicks between topics, from her latest shopping spree to some internet influencer's latest posts on social media. I nod at the right moments.
As the night continues, Aliyah’s demeanor shifts. Her laughter becomes more frequent, her eyes linger, and her body leans in closer. A wave of her perfume hits me as she places her hand on my knee. She slurs, “Logan, you know… you’re not like the guys I usually hang out with.” Her voice lowers as she adds, “I like it.”
A part of me knows I should pull away, that it's the alcohol talking for her. But I down the last of my whiskey, deciding to play along.
After all, isn't this what we do? Empty conversations and meaningless flings, all part of the show.
The night unfolds as it always does.
As I guide her through the dimly lit hallway to my bedroom, there's a sinking feeling in my stomach. Her fingers trace patterns on my arm, the sensation feeling more like a burn than a caress. Her laughter echoes in the room, grating on my nerves.
Shut up,I want to yell, but I swallow my irritation and instead focus on her pouty lips.
The next few hours are a blur as we lose ourselves in the moment. But even as we move together, there's a disconnect. It feels like I'm going through the motions, void of any emotional realness. Every touch, every kiss, feels empty. There are no true feelings there.
I look at her, her eyes closed, a faint smile playing on her lips, and I know this...thisisn't what I want. Not anymore. I'm tired of these hollow encounters, of waking up next to a stranger.
I feel nothing.
Not one ounce of care.
Nothing.
I feel nothing.
The void within me seems to grow.
I want... more.
I want depth, a connection that spans beyond the physical.
I want to wake up with a sense of fulfillment, knowing that the woman lying next to me is more than a temporary escape.
I crave for a woman who can challenge me, make me feel, make me...alive.
Something switches on within me.
No more empty fucks.
From now on, I want something real, something... meaningful.
* * *
The morning lightpours through the glass windows as the night's illusion fades.
This is reality.
I glance back at the bed, at Aliyah's stunning face. Any other man would give anything to wake up next to a woman like her. But me? No… I feel... nothing.
