Climax King

•2.1•

Waking up in an unfamiliar bed was never a problem for me. Not saying that Finn's magnificently large bed was at all a menace, but I was always a hermit when it came to my preferred sleeping arrangements regarding the aftermath of any sexual activity.

Looking back on Josh and I's relationship, I'd never slept in his bed. It was fuck, then gone. Finn was truly the only person I'd allow to sleep in my bed without request. Some things come as a second nature and I think Finn Quinton is one of those things.

I push up from the comfort of his bed in hopes of hearing the shower running just to know his whereabouts because I'm still confused as to what is around his apartment. It was large, expensive, and decorated so pristinely that I didn't want to touch anything without the right to do so.

I look around in search of my clothes, but find absolutely nothing. Clearly he was setting me up. Is there where my entire high school class jumps out from his closet and tell me what I lousy bedmate I am? That'd be fun.

I cover my body with the sheets and look for any clues as to where my clothes were. Soemthing about wearing Finn's clothes, although I've done countless times, seemed all too easy. He clearly had something up his sleeve and despite my curiosity, I was actually going to roll with it.

Using the shitty hair tie that I had conveniently on my wrist, I toss my hair into a sloppy bun. This length thing was becoming an issues. I mean, my hair length of course. Although other lengths are still concerning considering the slight pain I was feeling in the lower region with slight movements.

My smart ass had no clue where my phone was, and Finn's wasn't around either. I just hope my parents weren't blowing me up with continuous questions. All I could think about now is what their scolding faces would be when they realize I didn't come home last night. Wow. Can't wait for that confrontation.

I take a look around his room, intrigued by how mature everything was. The windows out onto the South Side were shining in a bright light with no curtains closed but due to distance, I don't think anyone would get a show they weren't bargaining for. Speaking of show... were the blinds closed last night because really, I don't want all of the South Side to see me as another one of Finn's sluts. Although, I can't label me any other way at the moment.

I was lost in thought when Finn's tall door opens lightly. He stepped in carefully while balancing a tray in his arms. Clearly his countless hours at Rosalind's we're leading up to this moment. And I'll be damned thankful for that.

He smiles once he realizes I'm awake, before leaning in to kiss me. I was quick however, and shift my face so he left a peck on my cheek. "I'm offended. Did Mean Mena just reject my kiss?" He asks with his voice laced in all of it's cocky glory.

I roll my eyes playfully, having missed the comfortable conversation between us. "No. I have morning breath. That's not attractive."

He shrugs his shoulders while placing the tray onto the bed seeming to not care if it stains his white comforter. Damn, if it was me there would already be Dorito stains.

"Never bothered you before. Actually, if I remember correctly, you were pleading for morning sex. 'Oh Finnly you sexy, sexy man! Fuck me like I'm the last girl on Earth! Yes! Yes!" He speaks in his most high pitched moaning voice while he lets out a soft snicker to himself.

I scowl, poking where his dimple should be. "First of all, I don't sound like that. Second of all, fuck you. And third of all, that was a different time. A different, desperate Philomena Grace who now is no longer with us."

His eyes widen, "Shit. Did she die? Should I send a card? Maybe a floral arrangement?"

I shrug my shoulders, "Food is more than accepted. It's worshipped actually."