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I had broken up with her again. I had hurt her too many times and this would be the last time.I sat there. Everything was all set. All social media had been deleted, all traces of me anywhere on the internet were scrubbed. I was a ghost of a ghost and there would be no way to find me after this.I stared at the edge, looking at it. I had five more minutes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, daring myself to call. I opened it, scrolling through my contacts, finding the number. I typed in the special code I knew about before your number. I would be connected directly to your voicemail without your phone ringing.“It’s… it’s Charles. Charlie. I just want you to know I’m okay. I need you to know that. Don’t come looking for me, because you will not find me. I’m a coward, which is why I’m speaking to your voicemail and not you. I already had the necessary credits to finish up high school. I could have gone to college last year, but I wanted to graduate with you. I just need. ..blue." Somewhere, a man spins her around in his strong arms. Dances her tightly against him; and suddenly he is skin, warm, hard, urging at her. "Blue..." She straddles his hips, a smile as wild and rare as any blossom sketches her face in beauty; her throat rises and faints back, chin high, hair riffling; his cock buried inside her. Scratch marks fleck his body from her passions; and the head of his cock, almost painfully swollen, is dark shadowed purple as its cleaves the pink seahsell perfectness of her labia. A dehooded monk dipping in reverent prayer, the rhythm of her clitoris rubbing a crease along the wet gleam on his shaft. "Blue..." From a drifting reverie, another man, taller, stronger yet, oiled her stretching nakedness with his starved hands; starved for her touch, the touch of her. She fed him. His hair, grown long, caressed her nipples, taunting with feathery touches until she arched against him; wanting the feel of his hardness against her belly. Opening to him..
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Not to him. Not anymore. The two of them just stared at each other. She was aware that they were both breathing hard as well. He clutched the stick in a white-knuckled grip and he was shivering violently. The fight hadn’t bothered him at all, but this had him in a near panic. ‘So, you can only touch people if you’re hurting them, is that it? Are you truly that messed up?’ Slowly, Grey lowered his stick and exhaled a shuddering breath, he’d gone ghostly pale. ‘None of your goddamn business.’ Miranda blinked and then whatever it was over. Grey was himself again, calm and collected. ‘Collect your bird and let’s get across the street.’ Miranda strained to pick up Sam, but without the other girl’s help, she couldn’t and she sank to the ground. ‘I can’t,’ she groaned. ‘You can’t? You seemed to be managing just fine earlier,’ Grey scowled at her. ‘Sam carries most of the weight,’ she explained. ‘Yeah, that makes sense,’ Grey exhaled a cloud of smoke as his face took on a pensive expression,.

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