<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/>Lea could hear Carlos rummaging around her apartment and she knew that he was likely ridding it of any drugs he found. It made her angry, but it simmered lowly in the back of her mind. She was too tired and emotionally drained to even try and stop him and the shower felt too soothing to want to get up.<br/><br/>He eventually came back for her some amount of time later, but she did not acknowledge him. He pulled her up, towel drying her in silence as she looked beyond him with a clouded expression. He seemed to realize she did not care about too much of anything at the moment and decided to carry her to the bed, wrapping her in a blanket, and then sitting next to her.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"> “Just that you know, I poured out all your vodka and I flushed down your coke and your pills. I won’t allow you to go down that road anymore…”</span>he said as he looked hard at her with his dark eyes. She only curled into a ball, turning away from him.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> “I know,”</span>she replied quietly as she snuggled deeper into the blanket, tightening it around herself as if to keep him out.<br/><br/>He could throw away as many of her drugs as he wanted, but he couldn’t be with her 24/7, he couldn’t always stop her. A stubborn part of her soul still existed, still whispered to her to defy him. Did he think a change would happen in a few hours simply because he forced his way on her? Certainly he was not that delusional.<br/><br/>She wanted to tell him he was wasting his time. Wanted to tell him to stay out of her business. Wanted to tell him that she was fine—but she knew it was all pointless. He would just get angry, be more forceful, call her a liar. She supposed to she was, always insisting she was fine, but if she didn’t tell him that, if she didn’t tell herself that—then she would likely would fall apart permanently.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF"> “Do you feel stronger when you are in control of someone else?”</span>she asked suddenly,<span style="color: #FF80FF"> “That you are somehow a better person because you do not do drugs? That somehow you are brave simply because you approach your issues differently? I think hurting other people for your own pleasure is just as bad as my drug use,”</span>Lea’s eyes were staring a hole into the wall opposite of her and she still did not turn to look at him.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> “You want me to trust you, demand it, even…but how can I when you have so many issues yourself? What makes you believe that hurting me is going to do anything to help me?”</span>her voice was hollow and devoid of emotion. She was not accusing him, she was not trying to provoke him—she just wanted a straight forward and honest answer. She wanted to know what he believed and why.