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New Rules

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One, one, one...

 

Talkin' in my sleep at night

Makin' myself crazy

 

Her hushed screams rang through the room as she threw herself on her bed, tears spilling down her face like the rain that shook her windows from outside of this awful place. She had come for a political marriage to Sindria’s very own king, and things took a turn for the worst.

 

She was the other woman.

 

(Out of my mind, out of my mind)

Wrote it down and read it out

Hopin' it would save me

 

She scrambled out of bed and to her desk, dress tearing a bit as she stepped on the hem. With shaky hands she took the glass spire of a pen and the ink pot, and she wrote. She had to, her mind felt like it was splitting. One second he was treating her like a blessing, another he was ignoring her.

 

(Too many times, too many times)

My love, he makes me feel like nobody else

Nobody else

 

She had grown to love him while she was there. Sinbad didn’t always have time for her, he was busy and she knew that. She just wished he would put more effort in, she supposed? He was never mean to her, or hurt her physically. He just. Ignored her if anything. But when he touched her heart, those moments he held her hands in the halls, they made her feel like she was on cloud nine.

 

But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself

I tell myself

 

Things had started to go well for her. The trade deals with Sindria and her home were going well, and Sinbad took time away from his duties (much to Ja’Far’s displeasure) to show her around the grand city that was his home now. It all felt perfect, until she found herself wandering the gardens, stumbling upon Sinbad kissing another woman. His eyes met hers, those stunning gold eyes, and they held no sorrow or remorse.

 

One, don't pick up the phone

You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone

 

She knew better now. She was stuck for a while in Sindria, still being counted on for marrying the cold moronic king, an idea that now repulsed her. She’d been in her room, hair down and brushing out any tangles when someone knocked on her door, to which she made no effort to get up. She didn’t care. To her surprise though, Sinbad’s voice drifted over from the door. “Please, let me see you. I love you.”

 

Two, don't let him in

You'll have to kick him out again

 

Against her better judgement, she opened the door, revealing a wasted Sinbad with a seductive look plastered across his face. “Can I come in?” His question made her heart race, in a good or bad way? She wasn’t sure, and she hesitantly nodded, craving his attention at this moment. He’d caught her at her lowest.

 

Three, don't be his friend

You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning

 

The two stayed up late, talking about any and everything. The world, plans, theories. It became a nightly occurrence. Sinbad would get trashed, and he’d find her, and use her as a safety net. He’d use her. And this went on for a while, a few weeks actually, before she felt her stomach sink when she realized she woke up in his room, in his bed. With him not there, her naked, and painfully sore in places she shouldn’t be.

 

And if you're under him, you ain't gettin' over him

 

She once had the resolve to pack up her things and run away, especially after seeing the man she loved routinely mess around with other girls. But she loved him enough that she wanted to stay anyway. Or at least, this is the decision she came to as she lay under him, his lips on her neck and his body against hers. She never wanted to leave this.

 

I got new rules, I count 'em

I got new rules, I count 'em

I gotta tell them to myself

I got new rules, I count 'em

I gotta tell them to myself

 

That first night she ran to her room crying, she wrote down rules she wanted to follow. Ones she was going to make into a mantra of sorts, yet here she was. Breaking every single one of them.