It was quite hard for Alex to escape my grip. He had to go to work, but of course, like always, I never wanted him to leave me here alone.
"Alex, what is the point of you having a job? Your dad gives enough money as it is," I said, him shrugging his shoulders as he tried to get away, me reluctantly letting my arms fall to my sides. He instantly jumped so I wouldn't even be able to attempt to capture him again, him walking over to my wardrobe, him sliding the drawers open.
"You are not a hobo, Alex. Go and get your own clothes," I said, be sensing he was smiling at that even though I couldn't see his face. It was as if he hadn't heard me, him pulling on a pair of my black boxers, followed by a pair of black skinny jeans.
It took him a bit longer for him to look for a shirt, him so fashion concerned. He finally pulled out a black tee shirt, pulling it over his head. He turned his heels, me noticing it was my KISS shirt, he walked out the door to find a pair of shoes.
"Please don't go to work," I pleaded, him in the other room for a while. It was silent for a few moments until I heard the faint click of the opening door.
He walked back into my bedroom, hands on his hips as he strutted over to me, his arms moving to my neck as he sat down on my lap, nuzzling his nose into my neck. I felt those tingles, feeling every hair on my body stand on end.
"I have to go, Jacky," he said softly into my ear, giving me a soft peck on the lips.
"Why?" I groaned, seeing a familiar smile of his, him leaving just one more kiss on my lips.
"I actually like my job. You should get one so you're not always stuck at home."
I actually had been thinking about getting a job so long ago, but really, the idea of doing labor didn't appeal to me. I got why Alex liked having his job, working for his own money, not getting it all given to him on a silver plate. He liked that he didn't have to depend on his dad all the time.
"Go on, you're going to be late," I murmured, him slowly standing up from my lap, grabbing my leather jacket off the door as he walked out, throwing his arms through the sleeves as he skipped down the stairs.
"The little fuck," I said under my breath with a small smile, hearing the sound of the front door closing.
What to do though? I had nothing to do when not around Alex, as usual, depending on him a bit- well a lot- too much to be there for me every second. I sighed as I stood up from the bed, grabbing a pair of sweat pants from the wardrobe, pulling them on quickly before skipping out to the upstairs hall and down the stairs.
I let myself flop onto the couch, contemplating what I could do with myself during the hours Alex was gone.
It pissed me off how unsocial I was, not even bothering the slightest bit to keep a little few friends, just relying on Alex to stay by my side since I first met him, him carrying all my burdens with me. He had always been there for me. When I do be in a bad mood, it is as if he doesn't matter in the slightest bit. He would just be adiment on cheering me up, letting me shout at him, give out to him.
I was a pretty stupid kind of teenager, I was suicidal, thinking being an outcast would make me feel better. Nobody ever bullied me or told me I was strange, but I always had a feeling people would speak about me behind my back. But maybe I was just super paranoid.
I listened music, like any other person, idolising Blink 182, wanting to be just like them. I found that I rathered songs that seemed to have an impact on me or have a special meaning to the artist his or herself, finding that type of music way better than the pointless love songs, all the pointless partying songs, all the pointless Christmas songs, that have been played over and over until they become boring, just some new person comes along, rewording it and practically coming out with the same bullshit.
