2

339 22 1
                                    


As I sit in my car I begin to daydream about what had happened less than 12 hours prior. I mean, what else will I do for entertainment while I wait for either my rescue or my untimely demise at the hands of Cletus the sling blade slasher?

After arriving home late in the evening, I had walked into the apartment to find clothes littering the hallway. It felt like I was moving in slow motion as I followed the trail into the living room where I watched as my live-in boyfriend and Portia, someone who I had come to consider one of my first good friends outside of the agency, were tangled together on the couch. 

I could have killed them both and I wouldn't have felt a single bit of remorse. Luckily for them, and despite the fact that it is supposed to be a massive betrayal of trust, I just didn't feel anything about the situation. I felt more inconvenienced and disgusted than anything. 

That's my couch. I sat there.

They should be thankful I wasn't PMSing or something, because the blanket they were bangin' on was my favorite. That fact alone should have signed their death warrant. 

Thinking back on things, it is rather sad that I was more upset about losing my favorite blanket than losing nearly a year of my life to the attractive young man who claimed to love me. Not that I really know what love is, but that is beside the point. It was a super soft, super fluffy fleece blanket that was the perfect size for yours truly and they were desecrating it! I had every right to get revenge via murder for that reason alone, and I didn't.

Seeing as how they were a little busy, they didn't notice my arrival. I walked back towards the front door and began to collect Portia's clothing from the floor. I was pleased to see that she had been wearing a top that she borrowed from me the last time we went out together so at least she was kind enough to unknowingly return it.

Nice.

I took her clothes, minus my shirt, and tossed them over the stair railing into the breezeway between the apartments below mine. Letting the door slam shut with more force than necessary, I announced my arrival home. The lewd noises coming from the living room stopped and I held back a cackle as I heard the hurried whispers and the mad scramble to find cover.

I walked back into the living room to see the rather comical scene of two people having been caught red handed. I saw Portia's smug smile, grinning like she won some sort of prize. I should have been offended, but I felt more amused than anything. I smiled sweetly back at her as I reached over, grabbed her arm, and pulled her off my couch. You could practically see the wheels turning in Bradley's mind as he tried to think of a way to explain his predicament. He sat there with a throw pillow covering his junk and a panicked look on his pale face as he stared at me and Portia.

You would think he would accept defeat and just admit that they were doing exactly what it looked like. But, No. Not Bradley. You see, I paid for everything in that apartment. He knew how royally he screwed up. Every single bill is in his name, but every penny that paid for it was mine.

He was taking a break from working to be able to find his inspiration for his art again. And I, the ever dutiful girlfriend, was happy to support him in everything he needed. Because that's what normal girlfriends do, right? I really wouldn't know. This was my first attempt at it outside of something purely physical in passing or with one of my agency's potentials. So I supported him for nearly six months. Did I love the guy? No. I just found that I liked the comfort of having his pretty face and constant presence around me. 

Plus, he was a little dumb and never asked questions.

He has a nice butt, too.

I escorted the throw blanket clad Portia to the door. There was this swelling sense of joy in my chest as I watched her panic rise when she couldn't locate her clothing during our walk through the hallway. I yanked her throw blanket toga off of her as I pushed her out the front door, leaving her bare for the whole apartment complex to see. 

EurekaWhere stories live. Discover now