You, every time.

Word count: 1095

Thursday the 2nd of March

It had been a week and Maeve couldn't seem to pluck up the courage to talk to Johnny. Every time she thought about telling him that she had feelings for him, that this wasn't just about sex for her, he would pull her in by the waist and kiss her and every thought would be swept from her mind. Instead, they would end up on the sofa, or his bed, or even on the kitchen table once. It was a Thursday night and Maeve was sitting on their sofa flicking through a catalogue she had picked up at their local Tesco after work. The woman hadn't been needed late at the bakery so she had decided to do the weekly shop. Unfortunately she had only got half way through unpacking it when she had gotten bored and sat down with a magazine. But however much she tried to concentrate on the New Look autumn line, her mind kept straying back to Johnny. She had told herself she would confront him tonight: an ultimatum. But the thought of losing what they had made her feel sick to her stomach.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the key turning in the lock.
"Hello?" Johnny's voice called out.
"Hey Johnny!" She spoke back, not looking up from her catalogue, "I did the shop, dinner's in the bag on the table,"
She could hear his footsteps as he moved behind her and through the French doors into the kitchen.
"Curry! Skill McGill!" Johnny cried when he looked in the shopping bag, causing Maeve to chuckle. She pulled herself up from the sofa and walked over to him in the kitchen. She was still wearing her apron from work and a short floral dress, but she had thrown her hair into a quick bun when she had gotten home. Johnny's eyes raked her up and down.
"Oh wow," he murmured, "has anyone ever told you how hot you look in that Apron, Vee?"
Maeve chuckled, "Actually yes, there is an old man who gets his baguette every morning that never fails to express it,"
Johnny grabbed her by the hips and tugged her to him by the table, "Well then, he has some competition," he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then another, "perhaps we could occupy ourselves whilst the curry is heating up?"
Maeve felt herself getting lost in his kisses, his touches, so she quickly pulled herself away. The coldness at the loss of his fingers was almost unbearable.
"I...I can't Johnny, I'm sorry," Johnny frowned at her words.
"Is something wrong?" He asked her.
"I don't think I can do this anymore," her voice broke slightly, a lump forming in her throat.
"I'm not bad in bed am I?" Johnny asked with a look of genuine worry plastered on his face. She let out a sad chuckle,
"Oh no, far from it actually," she replied.
"Then what's wrong?" The man tried to move towards her again and she pulled back.
"I can't do this with you. Not like this," Maeve spoke quietly and as clearly as she could manage to.
"But Maeve, it's just sex, neither of us want anything serious right?" Johnny tried to implore her but he only succeeded in making things worse.
"Did you ever ask me that, Johnny?" Johnny was quiet, "Did you?"
"No but-"
Maeve turned away from and walked towards the door, blinded by frustration and anger. She fumbled with her shoes, shoving them onto her feet. Johnny was close on her heels, restlessly pacing in the hallway.
"I can't do it like this. I'm sorry Johnny." Maeve felt her eyes fill with tears, but she couldn't let them spill yet.
"But-" he began to protest but she interrupted.
"How long have we known each other?" She asked.
"Since you were born. Twenty five years."
"I've liked you since I was ten." She let her words hang in their between them, before she spoke again, "Since I was ten and you were eleven, and you got braces but Adam refused to get any himself because he said you looked like an ugly cyborg and all the other kids laughed, but I hated every second because I thought you still looked gorgeous. I liked you when I was fifteen and you were sixteen, and we had a sleep over but I forgot my Pyjamas so I borrowed one of your tops and used it as a nightie. Or when I was twenty-three, and you were twenty-four at that stupid New Year's party. You kissed me at midnight. It was just a peck. But I couldn't get it out of my head for months. So no, Johnny, okay, I can't fuck you like this and pretend I'm not in love with you because I am."
Johnny didn't say a word. As soon as she had finished her outburst the girl regretted every word of it, even if it was true. Unable to think of anything else to do, she shrugged on the rest of her coat and ran out of the door. Johnny didn't follow her. The tears began to fall when the rain did. It was getting darker outside and the rain clouds were covering the setting sun as she walked across their apartment car park. Maeve wasn't sure where she was going, but it just had to be anywhere but there.

Back in their apartment, Johnny was still standing in the hallway. He wasn't exactly sure what had just happened, but the feeling settling in his chest was new to him. Like a slow dull ache right next to his heart. He didn't know how to make it stop, all he knew was that he wanted her back. It was the one thing he couldn't have. The man slammed his fist against the door in frustration and then immediately regretted it when pain shot through his hand. Johnny just stood there for a few more moments, before running a frustrated hand through his chestnut brown hair. Walking over to the coffee table, he picked up the land-line and punched in the number.
"Adam, hey. I need to talk to you before dinner at mum and dad's tomorrow, can you meet me in that dead pub just up the road an hour before hand?" His tone was monotonous through every word but he felt tears welling on his eyes.
"Yeah of course. Is everything okay Johnny?" instead of answering Adam's questioned, Johnny put down the phone and unplugged it from the wall.