Don’t Fuck with Aria

Posted: March 10, 2015 in Short Stories
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AN: This was a story written for a creative writing unit I did as part of my degree.  I forgot I had this and I just had to share it! I really enjoyed writing this one.  *whispers* I’ll tell you a secret… Donovan is the love of my life… even if he only exists in my mind… *sigh*


Does it ever get too much? Do you ever feel like screaming? Do you ever feel like dying? I do. Staring out into the city skyline I looked over the edge, it would take two seconds. Two seconds to stand on the railing and leap. Two seconds to fall to my death. I took a drag of my cigarette and smiled. I’m not suicidal, not by a long shot, but I often wonder. What would it be like to die? Feel that cold hand of death wrapping its way around my soul, pulling me under for the last time. Would it be like falling asleep? Or would it be terrifying? Like in the movies; but that was a puzzle for another day. I shook my head, stubbed out the smoke and crawled back in through the tiny bedroom window.

The alarm had turned on playing a happy song, so that’s what they call music these days? Christ on a cracker, what utter tripe. I glared at the lump in my bed and kicked it.

“Wake up, it’s morning.” I lit another cigarette. The lump formed a person shaped head, his face was laced with indignation and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“My God! Why didn’t you tell me?!” He whined; his voice was high pitched and grating on my nerves already.

I gritted my teeth and sneered as he stumbled out of bed, “I thought I just did?”

He glared, “I need my pants.” I threw them at his face. “Thank you. What the hell am I going to tell her this time?” He stumbled as he shoved one leg in, I bit back a snigger and plastered on a scowl.

I looked out the window briefly before I shrugged, and took a deep drag, “I dunno, how about you try the truth for once?”

He stared at me open mouthed for a second before he sneered, “Oh that’s nice. You’re not helping!”

I smiled sweetly, “Thanks. I wasn’t trying to.”

He grinned, obviously thinking I was joking and leaned over to kiss me just as his lips touched mine he reared back. “Urgh! You taste like a damn ashtray!” He snatched the cigarette out of my hand. “You need to give this shit up.”

I glared at him and stalked from the room. I slammed the bathroom door and got in the tub. I still wasn’t sure why I kept putting myself through this, I knew he was never going to leave his wife but it was just – something about him that made me keep crawling back. Maybe I was a sadist; maybe I liked the emotional pain.

I heard him shove on his jacket in front of the door. “Sweetie?” He called I threw my razor at the door in disgust, he knew I fucking hated pet names. “You didn’t book that weekend yet did you?” I rolled my eyes; this was the trip to Los Angles all over again.

I snatched a packet of cigarettes off the shelf behind me, “Let me take a wild guess here. You can’t go right?”

“Honey, look she cancelled her trip and I can’t just up and leave with no explanation. We’ll go some other time okay?”

I felt like screaming.

“Whatever, I’ll get over it.” I took a drag. He said something else through the door but I didn’t hear him. As the tears fell I heard the door shut. I lent back against the tub and I knew I couldn’t do this anymore. My head hit the tap and turned the shower on above me; I spat the soggy smoke out and put my head in my hands. Then I let myself scream.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Do you ever do that? I do it all the time, sometimes I wonder if my reflection will ever have the answers to life, the universe and everything. Deep Thought reckons the answer is 42, so I suppose anything is possible. But enough of that! Today was a new day and I was done. No more self-pity, no more taking people’s crap and no more Benjamin. My resolve hardened and I stalked into the kitchen snatching a garbage bag out from under the sink. I swept the apartment of everything that reminded me of him shoving in, clothes, flowers, teddies all of it. I tied the bag and chucked it in the corner next to the door.

I searched for my shoes, one was in the bathroom, I checked everywhere for the other. Shit, I was going to be late. I finally noticed it on the desk between the laptop and the fish bowl. I snatched it up; as I turned to shove it on I saw my fish, floating at the top of the bowl. I sat heavily in the chair; I poked him with a midnight nail. “Shit.” I muttered.

Maybe I shouldn’t get a dog. I thought. I hastily grabbed the phone and called the locksmith. He would be here this evening to change the locks. I smirked, grabbing my jacket off the hook; I made my way to work.

I’d thrown the bag of Ben’s stuff in the bin on the way past. If he wanted it he could search through the fucking derelict skip to find it. Katie was behind the counter when I arrived; I grinned and stepped behind the counter.

“How are we this morning, Aria?” She asked cheerfully.

“You know what? Really fucking great!” She wore a shocked expression, before recovering. I laughed and went in the back. I hung my jacket up on the hook and poured a cup of tea. I came back out armed with my cup and a smile.

“What’s with the jovial mood?”

I curled my hands around my favourite Space Invaders mug and took a sip, “I broke up with Ben today.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Really?! For good?”

I snorted. “Geez don’t act sorry or nothing K.” I quipped.

She had the decency to look a little ashamed before saying, “You know I hated that scum bag. He was cheating on his wife for God sake! Not to mention he treated you like a piece of gum on the bottom of his fancy shoes. You deserve so much better than that!”

I blushed, “Yeah well I’m serious this time. I threw all his stuff into the skip and I called the locksmith.” I smirked meanly. “He’s coming around this evening to change the locks.”

Katie laughed, “Brilliant.” I nodded and placed the cup down on the desk. “What did you say to him?”

I grinned evilly, “That’s the best part. He doesn’t know! He’ll come by expecting to come in; everything all ‘happy happy joy joy’ and the locks will be changed! Fuck him and his shit, just because his life is a goddamn public urinal doesn’t mean mine should be.” I giggled.

Katie gave me a look, “Okay I have a new rule.” She pointed at me grinning. “Don’t fuck with Aria.”

I burst into laughter. I liked that rule, it was easy to remember, “So what’s on the menu for today?”

Katie gestured to a pile of novels on the table opposite, “Those need to go away please.”

I grinned and did a little bow, “Certainly, my dear.”

Katie laughed, “You’re a nut!”

I grinned, “It’s all part of my devilish charm.”

I was making pasta when there was a knock at the door. Work had gone really well today. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so happy. It was like Ben was some kind of emotional vampire, sucking me dry and with him gone I was free! I wiped my hands on a tea towel then spun around and turned the radio up a little more. Whistling cheerfully I went to open the door.

“You must be the locksmith.” I said as I opened it. I stopped dead as I took in the man before me. He was handsome, very tall, flawless pale skin with strong shoulders, toned arms and deep sapphire eyes.

He flashed me a crooked grin, “Sure am. I’m Donovan.” He held out a large, yet elegant, hand.

I shook myself and blushed. I quickly grasped his hand, “Aria. Lovely to meet you.” He quickly looked me up and down and raised an eyebrow cockily. I felt the blush return in force crawling up my neck and heating my cheeks again.

“Likewise. Just the front door you need changing?”

I nodded dumbly. He flicked his long black ponytail over his shoulder and bent down to inspect the lock. His tight black jeans gave me a fantastic view of his backside, a battered packet of cigarettes poked out the left pocket. I grinned. Today just gets better and better. I paused. Should I – fuck I must be nuts. I thought.

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, “I’m – ah – making pasta for dinner. Did you have any plans after this? I always make far too much and – well if you want –” I stopped abruptly. Jesus what is the matter with you!? What are you fifteen?! Get a grip!

He turned and smirked, showing off adorable dimples, “Are you asking me to dinner, Aria?”

I blushed and looked at my sock covered feet, “I – ah – well – um – shit!” I muttered articulately. He laughed, it was low and deep like his voice. Melted chocolate over steel.

He looked up at me through thick dark lashes, “What type of pasta?”

“Homemade Chicken Carbonara.” I smiled proudly. “I even made the pasta from scratch.”

He raised an eyebrow, “That sure as hell beats a TV dinner.”

I scrunched up my nose, “Well that’s it! You have to have some now; it would be damn irresponsible of me to let you eat the monstrosity that is the TV dinner.” I flirted teasingly.

He laughed, “Beautiful woman, lovely apartment and the promise of a home cooked meal?” He grinned. “How can I resist?”


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