EXES AND OH'S

Knee Socks

I have already finished my grapefruit and oatmeal breakfast, cleaned my kitchen and living room, showered and blow-dried my hair, yet this gorgeous, curly-haired dipstick is still sound asleep in my bed - lying on his front and half his face buried on the pillow. 

I sit on the windowsill as I tie the laces of my black and ivory oxford heels. I have to get to my dads' place in Manhattan in an hour for Tim's belated birthday party celebration. He probably won't be happy that I'm wearing a Wednesday Addams dress and that I look more like attending a funeral rather than a birthday lunch.

I let out a sigh as I place my elbows top of my knees, catching my chin with my palm while I watch Levi sleep. He's still dreaming, I can tell with the way his pupils wildly moved under his eyelids. 

Well, he's tired and sleepless - both of us. We pulled an all-nighter doing spectacular nookie. Dude's packed condoms like he just went out of fucking sex-ed class. Makes me think about what his alter-ego EVIL.Genius said about the whole let's-just-talk-and-not-hook-up thing. It's probably just a ruse to make the unknowing girl think he's a gentleman and shit, when he's actually a grade-A asshole in real life. It's all a big fat lie.

So we had sex again. Third time for him and second time for me. But the point is moot. I am already in love with this fucker, whether I like it or not. God should have put an off-switch to people's hearts. That way one can just turn off unwanted feelings anytime. No more worries, no more tears, no more pain.

'I missed you...'

'I really like you.'

Stupid, horny me fell for those bunch of lies again, of course. He only just said it to get into my pants, which he duly accomplished. 

And what now? Do I wake him up? Do we talk?

Talking is not good, most especially after this. I don't even know how I'll act around him again. This is going to be so fucking awkward.

It's amazing how we make perfect sense in bed, fucking and making the other feel good in the physical sense. Yet when we open our mouths and let out what's in our heads, we clash and blow up like dynamites. 

Thinking about Levi and about us just makes me feel so tired, and it's just a quarter past ten in the morning.

I need a distraction. I need to divert all of my energy and attention to anything else but Levi because I can't have these feelings for him. Better pull out my heart now, put it in the blender and drink it for breakfast.

Ugh. Why do I have to be the one to suffer? It's not like I wanted to fall for him! This really is full-blown, digital karma. 

Or maybe I can just murder Levi now by smothering him with my pillow? But I'll have to find a way to dispose of his body. I can't just drop him in the trash chute. I'll just probably chop him up and donate his meat and bones to the soup kitchen. He can be chow for the homeless. But I'll save his balls and penis. It can be my little trophy.

Just kidding.

God, I really have to stop watching serial killer documentaries.

Levi blinks himself awake and lifts up his head. Maybe he was sensing my diabolical plan of feeding him to the less fortunate people of New York. I quickly get up to my feet and pretend to fix myself in the vanity mirror.

"Hey." Levi sits up slowly and rubs his eyes, stifling a tired but cute little yawn. "Morning." He looks and sounds cheerful. Well he should be, because I gave him crippling orgasms! His buttcheeks were literally cramping already last night.