My room is pitch black. We both squish in my twin bed. My arm lays across his torso and my head is nuzzled between his arm and his chest. I pick up my head and bite his bicep and return to my nuzzling position. He says something. What it is I don’t remember, but I remember I asked him to stop saying that because it makes me irrationally upset.
“Are you serious,” he asks.
“Yeah, I know it’s irrational but still kinda bothers me.”
“Well it makes me irrationally upset when you don’t kiss me back. Like the first few times it’s cute and all but, come on. It’s annoying.”
“Oh I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what else to say. I lay quietly besides him.
“Like I kind of like really like you, and it fucking bothers me that you don’t kiss me back. All the fucking time. Like really Bea,” he snarls.
I don’t say anything. I don’t take the opportunity to express how I feel. I stare at the ceiling, not able to see anything.
Say something!
I get up and walk down the stairs, and into the kitchen. I open my cabinet, and my eyes scan for a cup. Why do I have so many cups? This is so unnecessary.
I grabbed my France National football team cup.
Opened the refrigerator door.
The light is blinding.
I fill my cup with the Brita and walk up the stairs. I don’t walk into my room instead, I sit on the top stair and drink my water.
What the fuck are you going to do. He’s drunk, he won’t remember this. I can feel my heart beat through my chest. I must have been on the stairs for a while, because he called for me.
“ Bea? Beeeaa?”
I get up, take a sip, and walk into my room.
“Sorry, I was just getting water.”
I get into my bed and try not to touch his body with mine, which is incredibly hard to do in a twin bed. I laid on my side wiggled my body between the edge of the bed and the wall.
Why are you doing this? I fell asleep.
“ Hello beautiful,” he says.
I open my eyes.
The sun tries to shine through the closed blinds, giving the room an orange hue. I find myself back in my nuzzling position.
“Good morning,” I respond.
He kisses my forehead.
