Soap

Fettarm

Fettarm (noun. german)

Less than 0.5 grams of fat per reference amount and per labeled serving of a food.

Fat-free

When I went back to the living room I saw Frank sitting on the couch, his back facing me.
He was leaning over something I couldn't see yet, but when I went around the couch I saw that he was hovering over a little book.

A little book that looked all too familiar.

"What the fuck are you doing?", I asked, making his head snap up.
He looked a little surprised as if he wasn't prepared for me to come out of the bathroom this quickly.

In a quick motion I snatched the sketchbook I always kept in my bag from his hands and shoved it back to where it belonged.
"This is not yours to take", I said, because Frank still hadn't answered me.

"It was peeking out of your bag and I got curious.", he said and shrugged.

"That doesn't give you the right to go through my stuff. Curiosity killed the cat, remember?"

"Well last time I checked it was you going through my stuff as well. Also satisfaction brought back the cat so I'm fine."

I sighed.
Why does every argument with Frank lead to me getting frustrated out of my mind?
"But I am being payed to go through your stuff because how else would I clean it, huh?", I asked.

"I never asked you to go clean whatever is under my bed. You being a noisy idiot got us into this position."

"No, you being a moron and accusing me of stealing something I didn't take got us here"

"No, you not knowing your limits and getting drunk and high off some random pill got us here!", Frank huffed.

I let myself fall down on the sofa next to him.

"Oh so we're talking about that now?"

I didn't know if Frank was just talking about me being drunk in general or if he was referring to our night together.
We probably had to talk about it because that's what adults do, but I was neither in the right mood nor in the right state of mind to address it.

"There is nothing to talk about. We had sex, alright? That's it. We didn't get married in Vegas or something, so we don't have to talk about it."
Frank sounded a little hysterical.
I can imagine that he wanted to avoid this topic just as much as I wanted to avoid it.
But I also knew myself very well. I know that I am the kind of person that gets attached very easily so I had to talk it out, otherwise it would weigh on me like nothing else.

"Okay fine. I don't want to talk about it either.", I said trying not to sound bothered.
I didn't want to come off as needy or as if that night with Frank meant something to me. Hell... I don't even fucking remember anything about it.

Except for the kiss maybe.
That great fucking kiss...

"Great, then everything is fine", Frank said.

"Fine", I replied.

Silence spread around us and with every second passing it go thicker and thicker until I thought I was going to choke.
Luckily the sound of my grumbling stomache got rid of that feeling instantly.

Frank also seemed to lose some tension.
"You're hungry", he said.

"Well who would have guessed", I mumbled more to myself, but added a little: "Yes"

"Okay what the fuck happened in that shower because I really can't tell why you're being so cocky right now", Frank said. Apparently he had heard my mumbling.