clone-after the hunt
With his hands wrapped around her body and her wrapped around his, Amani could not help to feel that they were simply enduring and committing the longer and more everlasting form of death. Right now, being with him like this, smelling the scent of his cheap cologne and of his cigarettes, she thought to herself… this is my Enzo—My Vinnie and she pressed herself harder to him, as if itching to be even closer. She didn’t know how much she had missed being like this with him, when jokes were just jokes. Perhaps, if she still didn’t have her dignity, she knew that he would cry and ruin his shirt, so they pulled away.
He had pulled away first, she thinks, or maybe it was her who pulled away first, but Amani took a step back, and he took one forward as he cupped her cheek, and he wiped something off her face. Amani blinked rapidly, her face heating up as Vinnie’s thumb brushed against her cheek. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying, and the dampness on her face felt foreign. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out as he wiped her skin with that gentle, almost absentminded care. She tried to swallow whatever lump had risen in her throat, shifting her eyes to the side, avoiding his gaze.
Her hand twitched at her side, unsure whether to brush his hand away or leave it there. But instead of acting, she stood frozen for a moment, her body rigid. Her heartbeat was louder than it should be, and she hated how it made her feel so… exposed. She inhaled sharply, more out of reflex than necessity, and let her gaze fall to the ground, pretending like she hadn’t just noticed the raw, vulnerable edge she’d unintentionally shown. Her throat tightened, and she clenched her jaw. A quick, shallow breath followed, as if steadying herself, though her eyes remained fixed anywhere but on his face.
Though, her eyes quickly snapped back to his face when he had asked his question, that one created a thousand thoughts that spiraled in her head. She parted her lips, as if to speak, then closed it and pressed them tightly together.
Amani let out a shaky breath, her eyes still avoiding his. She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, the words getting stuck in her throat. What were they doing here? She didn’t know how to answer that—not without saying too much, not without admitting to things she wasn’t ready to face.
“Being stupid,” Amani let the words hang in the air for a moment, feeling the weight of them settle between them like a fog. She let out a soft, humorless laugh, but even that felt forced, thin against the tension building in her chest. She shook her head slightly, staring at the ground again as her arms instinctively wrapped around herself, as if trying to hold everything in.
"All this is meaningless, you’re holding… we’re holding unto nothing,
There was a part of her that wanted to say more, to explain herself, to confess something real. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—because that would make this too real, too messy. She wasn’t ready for that. Not now, not with him looking at her like that, like he was waiting for some kind of answer that she wasn’t sure she had.
“We keep doing this,” she added, shaking her head, “Going back and forth, pretending like it means something. Like it’s not going to end the same way.”
Her eyes darted up to meet his, and for a second, she felt raw—like he could see right through her, like he had always been able to. And she hated it. Hated that he could still make her feel so exposed, so uncertain, when all she wanted was to build walls around herself, keep everything neat and detached.
But here they were, standing in the rubble of all the walls she thought she’d built. And she didn’t know what to do next. “You know this doesn’t last, Vinnie.”
She rubbed her eyes, as If extremely worn out, “When I go to bed today, I’m going to wake up the same as always, hating you, wishing you would disappear, and I’ll go back to being myself and Azriel’s fiancee, and you will continue to despise me for all I said today and did, like I will continue to despise you for everything we’ve been through.” Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to keep going, her tone sharpening like a defense.
Amani’s hands fidgeted at her sides, fingers curling and uncurling as she struggled to maintain her composure. She could feel the weight of her words settling between them like a cold barrier, the kind that couldn’t be crossed.
“I don’t know what this is,” she continued, almost to herself now. “But it’s not real. Not for me. Not when I have a life waiting for me, responsibilities… Azriel, my future. And you… you’re just part of the past I can’t shake off. But I’m going to keep trying.” Then, almost as if talking to herself she said, “But I think I’ve been doing this wrong, as obviously no matter how hard I try, you keep coming near me, so I think…I think that’s how it can truly work, to be as indifferent to you as ever.” With that, she took a step closer, and standing on her tip toes, she kissed his neck. It was strange to be doing this with him, but it was the way to truly be indifferent to him, for him to simply become one of the many people she bedded, and not a best friend, not a brother. Still, she wouldn’t kiss him on the lips, that was just too personal and she never did that with the one’s she did not like.