𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟎𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 - 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝟏𝟎𝟖𝟎𝐩

• KEENAN TRAVINO •

I woke up to a bear in front of my face again. The same probably will happen tomorrow and the next afternoons until I admit my need for an embrace that lasts until twelve o'clock. Gia's stingy like that. The woman thinks she's got a hold of me. The conversation last week went a little something like:

"Just admit that you like my cuddles," she rolled her eyes, an annoying quirk that she got from Lord-knows-who, "so that we'll cuddle."

I crossed my arms in front of me—my own annoying quirk that I got from Lord-knows-who. This Lord-knows-who guy must really be of influence, "I don't. It's corny. It's time-wasting. Even arguing about it is stupid."

"You liar," she narrowed her eyes at me.

"I don't lie," I rolled mine.

It's true. Cuddling is corny. It's time-wasting too. I also did not lie when I said that I don't like her cuddles. Because I love them. Gia should start rephrasing her queries before speaking. Haven't she learned yet?

I tossed Thistle to the floor. "You're so petty, Gianna."

She lifted her eyes from the cutting board, going briefly to my face before coming back down to the sausage she was chopping, though taking a detour to glance at a different type of sausage. I ignored it. Horny little—

"It's you who's petty," she proceeded to whisk eggs in a bowl. Gia's been making breakfast and has improved her cooking skills for quite sometime now. To complain was the last thing I'd do. Surprisingly, Gianna's kinda pretty slightly mildly good at cooking. Who would've known.

"All you gotta do is say 'Gia, I like cuddling with you, yes' and you'll get to do it from midnight to..." she glanced at the wall clock—the ugly wall clock that should be replaced, "twelve in the afternoon."

Okay, so it's not really breakfast she's making. More like lunch, and I blame myself for dragging her into the habit of sleeping until twelve onwards. In my defense, she hasn't been busy with anything, especially when she's a freelance author once again. Nine months working at Contented gave her more than enough experience.

I walked to the open door of the balcony, glancing out and feeling the breeze. I suppressed my shiver. Then, I walked to the tiny kitchen and opened the cabinet above my head.

I took out my favorite cup which isn't really my favorite cup but Gia insisted otherwise. She also insisted that we name it. A fucking weirdo that girl.

If you're wondering though, its name is Cherry due to its color. I suggested it was more Crimson than Cherry, but Gia must've been more entertained with the idea of a thirty-plus-year-old man and his red mug named Cherry. Like how dawn sheds the skin of night, I, too, shed my defenses around this woman.

I opened the fridge. Two bottles caught my eyes: milk and rum. Whenever I choose rum before seven in the evening, Gia refuses to have sex with me. So, I reached for milk. I poured myself half a glass and drank. It didn't do the trick.

I changed the topic, "I'm signing copies later. I should see you for dinner."

I watched her. I ate with her and suggested to eat her too but Gia said I should save that for later.

"And what are you gonna do while I'm out?" I asked as I got dressed to go home. I needed clean clothes. I'll change again then go to Contented. You'd think that I would have half of my wardrobe with Gia by this time. But no. I won't half-move-in unless she tells me to. Her place is still her place. Mine, though? there are cheap baggy t-shirts everywhere and purple teddy fur on the white sheets.