Addicted
Gael was greeted by familiar darkness when his eyes fluttered open and he saw the ceiling of his room. He'd woken up in the middle of the night before, and he'd either go back to sleep or get up and work out. The feeling of loneliness would settle in where he'd realize once again that he wasn't getting any younger. He was done with fooling around—a quick lay was getting old.
But because of his affiliations, it wasn't that easy. He would forget about the shift in his wants for a bit and then do what he used to do. And eventually, the time he'd spend with a woman he'd find good enough for the night seemed to lessen. The last woman he'd been with many months ago didn't even last for more than a night. And when his bed was cold, he wished he'd have someone to hold.
'Jesus. Feeling pathetic, are we?' he thought.