IV

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Saturday is the best day of the week. The stores aren't closed for bullshit religious days and you don't have to go to school. Too bad I waste my Saturdays every week. This week, however, I wouldn't spend it any other way.

See, after waking up on top of Murdoc, pretty much. We didn't really talk about it, which is probably for the best. He didn't even seem to care, so that too is probably for the best. It's always my job to worry about things and overcomplicate things ever so slightly.

He'd made me coffee yesterday and I thought I might return the favor whilst he used the bathroom.

I might be spoiled, but I don't know how to use this kind of coffee machine. It's way too old for my taste. Wait, isn't there supposed to be a filter somewhere here? Where does he even keep them? I try my best to rummage through his cabinets silently and without making a huge mess, but wouldn't you know it? I fucked that up too. Cans from his pantry started toppling down and if that's not bad enough, Murdoc and his impeccable timing were standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"What the fuck happened?" He asked, rushing over to clean up.

"I-I don't know. I wa-was just trying t-to make you coffee while you were in the show-shower bu-but I couldn't find th-the filters," I stuttered out while anxiously fidgeting my fingers, not daring to look away from him.

He stopped picking cans up and walked over to the fridge, reaching up to the top and pulling off a box.

"Coffee filters," he stated blankly. "Are always gonna be at the top of the fridge. At least, while you're living with me, they are."

He helped me clean up the mess I had made and then started walking out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," I called to him before he left for his room.

"Yeah, yeah, it's okay," he calls back.

After I finish up, I decide not to make him coffee and just sit on the couch. Since I don't really know how to use anything but a Keurig, I'm afraid I'll make a bigger mess that's harder to clean up.

When he comes out of his room, he's looking slightly better than usual. He smells slightly better than usual. Almost as if he put the extra effort to wash his clothes and put on cologne. Albeit, cheap cologne, it still smelled great.

"You look nice," I tell him.

"Thanks," he begins. "I don't think I can do anything today. I'm going out with Courtney today. You're okay on your own, right?"

Who's Courtney?

"Yeah, I'll be fine, I think."

"Good,"

Moments later, scattered knocks bang on the front door.

"That's her!" He says, rushing up to answer. As soon as he opened the door, a blur of motion came from the blonde-haired lady who looked maybe a couple of years older. I couldn't see what all happened at the time of it happening, but what I see now is her mouth to mouth with Murdoc in what looked to be a drunken kiss.

Almost instantly I regret my decision of standing up. I feel sick. My legs were dumb and wobbly. I felt like I was two again and learning how to walk. My heart was at my feet.

He pushed her off and said "This is Stuart. Stuart, this is my girlfriend, Courtney,"

"Nice to meet you," she laughs drunkenly in a strong American accent. "Where do you get your hair done? Every time someone dyes my hair, they do a splotchy job," she says, pointing to her hair.

"Probably because you and everyone you know is always drunk," Murdoc interrupted. She pushed him playfully and said "Well you're one to talk. You drink like every day is new years Eve of 1999."

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